The Tortoise and the Hare
by helliex88
Summary: There may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge". Edward and Bella, both with pasts that haunt them, meet at the worst possible setting. Will they ever see the other clearly? AH Canon pairings.
1. Robot Girl

**A/N: First Chapter of my first fanfiction. I hope you enjoy it, am working on the second chapter at the moment and hope to post it by next week.**

**A LOT of thanks to cdunbar for being my beta and putting up with my way too long e mails obsessing over this story, and my extremely bad grammar and punctuation.**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES A SCENE THAT MIMICS SELF HARM BUT IT IS NOT THE INTENT OF THE CHARACTER TO HURT THEMSELVES. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, it's all Stephanie Meyer. I just like to play around with them all.  
**

1. Robot Girl

_It wasn't human at all,_

_it was a robot boy!_

_He wasn't warm and cuddly_

_and he didn't have skin._

_Instead, there was a cold, thin layer of tin._

_There were wires and tubes sticking out of his head._

_He just lay there and stared,_

_not living or dead._

_Robot Boy- Tim Burton  
_

I sank down into the water, my lips below the surface, staring gloomily at the tap as water dripped rhythmically from it.

_Drip._

_Drip_.

I hated the noise, reverberating and echoing around the white, cold bathroom. Everything was cold and still and frozen. Me included. I fit in with this bathroom. Lying here naked in the tub, the soapsuds long gone from the water, my skin had turned paler than I thought possible. And I was as cold and white as this whole damn bathroom.

A loud and brutal hammering on the door tore my stare from the offensive tap. "Bella! Have you fallen asleep in the tub again?" I heard my sister Rosalie screaming at me through the door. I just sank lower into the water until my ears were covered as well.

God, she's such a fucking harpy. How on earth does Emmett stand her?

_Stupid question, Bella, you know why Emmett stands her. The walls aren't thick enough to hide it from the whole street why Emmett stands her,_ I thought to myself. I sincerely believe hearing your sister's name screamed out as loud as humanly possible every night has a serious long-term effect on your mental wellbeing.

I sighed through the water causing a stream of bubbles to shoot up from my mouth and break upon reaching the surface. I could still hear Rosalie shrieking. Tilting my head up so my mouth was no longer under the water, I called out, "Coming, Rose!"

"That's what I said!" I heard Emmett call back, followed by the sound of a smack. I rolled my eyes, sadly all too familiar with Emmett's bad jokes that only he found funny and my sister's love of violence. With the amount of times she hit him on the back of the head, it was amazing he was not brain dead; he just couldn't tell jokes anymore.

I heaved myself out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me, grabbing my clothes off the floor. I quietly and swiftly unlocked the door, sidled past Rose without looking at her, but completely aware of her glare, and shuffled off to my room down the hall.

Once inside with the door firmly closed and locked, I took off my towel and looked at my naked body in the full length mirror. I still looked the same as I did before the 'accident', maybe a bit thinner, gaunter, and hunched looking, but my body was basically just as it was before.

My face was something else altogether though. There were no disfiguring scars or marks, not visible anyway. It was more my demeanour that was so different. My face used to be an open book; I would blush over the smallest thing and had no control over my facial expressions whatsoever. If you wanted to know what I was feeling, you just had to look at me. There were some who found it endearing, but I found it embarrassing, which just made me blush all the more.

And then my face became a mask. I only had one expression and it was in place all the time - absolute indifference, halfway between vacant and bored. I became impossible to read, secretly I prided myself on it, because it was almost like getting revenge for years of being teased on how easily fathomable I was. You couldn't even tell by my voice what I was feeling. I would speak as softly as possible, depending on how loud I needed to be, and with an even pitch. I betrayed no emotion. I made it my business not to.

However, I needed to stop daydreaming and get back to the task in hand. Everyday I did experiments on myself, little tests. Ever since the 'accident' I'd steadily grown number and number. I could feel pain, I could feel extremes in temperature, but I didn't seem to register it. It just didn't bother me.

I first realized how numb I'd become when I took something out of the oven once without gloves. The dish felt hot but it wasn't until I'd put it down and looked at my hands that I had realized I'd burnt myself. I ran my hand under the cold tap just because I didn't want blisters, not because I was in pain. I was shocked, of course, but I got over it pretty quickly, and became mildly curious, I decided to make it something I could monitor everyday to keep my mind occupied, if only for a little while. It was hard to keep my attention fixed.

So that was when I came up with the series of tests, the bath was the first one. First, I made sure the bath was scalding hot when I got in, then I waited until it was freezing cold, and depending on whether I had enough time or not, I would run the cold tap to speed it up or even add ice. Then I would go to my room and pinch myself in particularly sensitive areas as hard as could - the inside of my upper arms and thighs, around my neck, places like that. Recently, however, I'd been feeling barely anything at all, even using my fingernails. So today I tried something different.

I won't lie to you. I was a bit nervous about this, not that you would've been able to tell from my face. I don't want you thinking I am some melancholy, attention seeking, self-harmer. This was in the interest of science and I was running out of options.

I picked up the Stanley knife from my desk. It was just a small one, but brand new and very sharp. I wiped the blade with an anti-bacterial wipe and gently pressed the pointed tip against the soft, tender flesh of my upper left arm. I could feel nothing. I pressed a bit harder. Still nothing. I took a deep breath to prepare myself, not that I was afraid of the pain. Please understand, it was breaking the skin I was worried about. I hated the smell of blood, it makes me faint.

So, I changed the angle of the blade until it was completely horizontal with my skin and very gently dragged the blade across. It was so sharp I inadvertently made a cut and a bead of blood oozed out, trickling down my arm. I instantly put the knife down and reached for a tissue whilst holding my breath. Pressing down on the wound, I waited for the blood to stop. The cut wasn't deep or very long but the blood was still flowing and I needed a few more tissues. Finally, it stopped and I put a plaster on it.

I decided that was enough testing for the day. Even with the new method, I felt nothing. There was the tiniest slither of stinging when I drew the blade across my skin, but not enough to bother me. It seemed the numbness was still going strong.

It was 5 o'clock and I had to start getting ready. Rose and Emmett were throwing a party, which I had been cordially requested to attend. And by cordially, I mean bluntly. And by requested, I mean ordered. Still, at least it was a house party and I could just retreat back to my room when it became too much to handle. Which I was pretty sure wouldn't take long. I picked out a pair of black jeans and a black fitted sweater. I only put on some make up so Rose would see I had made an effort. Adding some plain black flat pumps to the outfit, I left my hair to dry naturally. Not bothering to check myself in the mirror I decided I was ready so I went to open the door but there was a knock the moment my hand reached for the key. I unlocked the door and opened it to reveal Rosalie looking stunning, as usual, in a red, snug dress, looking at me quite unhappily. Most likely she didn't think I'd put in enough effort for tonight.

"Yes?" I asked evenly, as I said everything.

"I just wanted to have a little chat with you before anyone arrives," she replied in almost the same tone, but there was a little more life in hers than mine.

"Okay." I stepped aside, allowing her to glide in and fluidly sit on my bed, looking pointedly at me and the spot next to her. I went to sit by her, but I was pretty sure without her grace. I have my own... interpretation I suppose you could call it.

"I know you aren't particularly looking forward to tonight, but it's important to Emmett, so it's important to me. We want you to try and have some fun tonight. There'll be plenty of people you'll already know, and it won't be hard for you to get to know the ones you don't."

I nodded my head. I'd been fully expecting the "Bella, just don't show us up and for the love of god, try to smile once in a while, preferably at a man" talk. I had to hand it to her, she was handling it with more tact than I thought she possessed. I loved my sister and I know I could be harsh toward her, fairly often, but she wasn't the easiest person to get along with. I nearly had a heart attack when she offered to let me live with her and Emmett. It was the least selfish thing she had ever done in her entire life, I swear.

Her voice brought me back to reality and I realized she was still talking. "... leave you to yourself as much as you want, we don't force ourselves upon you. Sometimes we go for days without seeing you, so I don't think it's too much for me to ask this one little favour of you."

"And what exactly is that Rosalie?" I wished she'd just get to the fucking point already so I could agree and end up not doing it.

"I want you to make an effort this evening. Smile, laugh, engage people in conversation." - _for people, read men_ - "I really think if you just _try_ this evening it'll be a lot easier than you expect and you might just end up having a good time." She ended her little speech with her best confidence boosting smile, which I hated to admit wasn't really that great. Still, I knew her heart was in the right place.

"I'll do my best Rosalie, I promise." She didn't look that convinced and I didn't blame her because my voice and facial expression hadn't changed one bit. But I guess she was just gonna take what she could get because she smiled at me, patted me on the hand, and got up to leave.

"People will probably start arriving in an hour and a half, could you help me lay all the food and drink out?"

"Yeah, sure, of course."

I followed her out of my room and for the next couple of hours, helped her get the place ready for Emmett's "I finally shot a Grizzly Bear and it was in the ass" party. I found my brother in law's love of killing Grizzlies worrisome but, of course, said nothing.

It was about half an hour after the party was in full swing that I was just about ready to pull down the hunting rifle hanging beneath the poor head of the bear Emmett had shot and use it on myself. I might have a small problem with reaching the trigger, but I figured I could always use some string or something.

Rosalie was flitting from guest to guest, being the perfect hostess, and Emmett was retelling his hunting story with a new round of people. I was standing on the other side of the living room, wine glass in hand, watching him re-enact his story for the umpteenth time with amusement that didn't show on my face. It was entertaining to see that while he was so cheerfully telling his story, there were a few people who just couldn't quite manage to hide their repulsion at his glee in killing an animal he'd intentionally pissed off. Emmett obviously saw this and just rubbed it in their faces a bit more. If anyone had a hope in hell of even making me smile, I was pretty sure it would be Emmett.

I saw Rosalie orbiting her way over to me, a couple of guests in tow. She'd been doing this all evening, introducing me to people I had no desire in knowing. It primarily started off with men. Her obviousness in trying to get me paired off or, at least, laid was just embarrassing for all concerned, but sadly she hadn't seemed to notice. Thankfully, since I had turned my back on and walked away from the last man she'd introduced me to, she'd gotten the hint and hadn't returned with any more. Now it was couples, or individual women, and there had been a couple of gay men. It appeared she was trying to find me a friend. Could I be any more pathetic? The latest couple she approached with consisted of a very petite brunette with short spiky hair and elfin features and a tallish blonde with a conservative look on his face. _Perfect_. I couldn't wait for the scintillating conversation I was going to have with these two.

"Bella, this is Alice and Jasper," Rosalie introduced them to me. "This is my sister, Bella. She's a writer." Rosalie always said that, as though that was the only interesting thing about me. She never said that I was an unpublished author who made a living by forging horoscopes for some trashy magazine aimed at middle- aged housewives. Quite the conversation starter, that one.

The short one, Alice, was practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh my gosh! Really! What do you write?" I started to tell her quite honestly about how I made my living but Rose smoothly intervened before I got the chance.

"Oh you know, romance type novels and that sort of thing. She keeps it all very hush-hush." That was the one great flaw in Rose's plan, she wanted people to be interested in me so she told them I was a writer, but she didn't want them to know what I actually wrote. It was all very Catch 22ish. Besides, apart from the horoscopes, she didn't actually know what my unpublished novels were about, since I refused to show her.

"Oh. Well, I'm an event planner, and Jazzy's a military advisor for a TV show," Alice replied, looking at me.

"Very interesting," I said, though I really couldn't care less. She didn't seem to be put off and 'Jazzy' even seemed amused.

"Yes, it is. I love the versatility to it. One week I'm planning a wedding, and the next, a dog's birthday. It's great! And Jazzy's name gets shown on TV every week. I scream every time I see it." She leaned in closer to me to whisper in my ear. I bent a bit so she wouldn't have to stretch so far. "And it's such a turn on."

I managed not to gag.

"Alice's brother, Edward, is here also. I think he's over by the bookcase," Rose said. She turned and peered over people's heads to try and find him. "Oh yes, there he is talking to Tanya."

The crowd cleared a bit and I saw a tall bronze haired man leaning in close to a strawberry blonde I vaguely recognized. They looked quite cozy as she reached up and ran her hand through his thick hair before running her fingertips round his ear and then down his neck. Allowing her hand to rest on his chest, she threw back her head and laughed so lustily I could hear it from where I stood.

"Who's Tanya again?" I asked Rose, still looking over at the couple.

"She's my friend from college. You've met her a few times, I'm sure."

Oh yes, I remembered now. The memories come flooding back to me. Tanya was the one person you could count on at a party to be fucking some poor unsuspecting male she'd somehow snared - I'm not sure exactly, but rohypnol was my guess - against the bathroom door around 4 o'clock in the morning. I suddenly felt very sorry for this Edward guy, although he looked lucid enough, so maybe not _that_ sorry.

"What kind of person is she?" 'Jazzy' asked. It was the first time he'd spoken. He had a heavy southern drawl to his voice that I supposed was not without its charm.

"She's… very nice. We've been friends for a long time. Impeccable taste in wine," Rosalie answered, trying desperately to describe Tanya in such a way that would not make Alice charge up to her, slug her across the face, and drag Edward as far away as possible from her.

"She and Edward appear to be getting on well," Jasper said with a smirk on his face. Alice looked worriedly in their direction, then back at me. My face was carefully blank so I had no idea why she was looking at me.

A loud crash, followed by, "Oh shit! My fucking bear!" caused Rose to excuse herself and try to clean up whatever mess had happened, leaving me with Alice and Jasper.

"So how do you know Rose and Emmett?" I asked.

"Oh, I met Emmett through work. His firm handled the construction of one of the sets and we sort of bonded over a mutual love for outdoor sports," Jasper said.

"Yeah, and Rosalie and I sort of met through them. We've all gone out for dinner together a few times, haven't we Jazzy?" Alice added, cocking her head at Jasper, who simply nodded.

"Oh" is all I could think to say. I wasn't aware Rose and Emmett had gone out with them. In fact, the party was the first time I'd heard of an Alice and Jasper. Though I wasn't really that observant when it came to Rosalie and Emmett's social life.

"So Rosalie says you moved here from Seattle?" Alice asked. I nodded, not wanting to elaborate and she seemed to sense this. "How do you like Chicago?"

"It's okay." I purposefully tried to keep my answers as short as possible, hoping they'd get the hint and go away.

"You and I should go shopping sometime, if that's your idea of party wear."

She looked disapprovingly at my outfit and I bit back my retort of "Well, we can't all go around dressed head to toe in Gucci or whatever the fuck you're wearing" and just answered with, "I really don't need any clothes.".

"Oh that's okay. I'm sure we can still find something anyway. How's next Saturday?"

I fought to not look incredulously at her. Here I was acting my coldest and she wasn't affected at all. I admired her spunk. If I was my normal self, we would have probably been friends by now. Ah well, no point contemplating 'what ifs'. I decided to agree and cancel later, be conveniently ill or something, and then lose her number and forget to return any messages I may receive from her. She had Rosalie. She didn't need me and I was no one's pet project.

"That would be fine," I merely said. She seemed satisfied by that and we chatted about nothing for a few more minutes before I excused myself on the pretence of 'freshening' my drink. I went to the drink table and refilled my wine glass, but I was actually covertly looking around the room to make sure Rosalie was conveniently occupied so I could escape to my room.

I didn't think I could take much more. The last couple was okay, I supposed, but I had reached my limit of ogling men who made me feel physically sick, looked at with pity by couples, or flat out hostility from single women.

_Relax! Take any man you want. I am no threat, believe me!_ I wanted to say to them. Sadly, they had 'must marry and bear children' practically gouged into their brain by whatever Stepford robot brought them up. One thing you could say about Renee, she let you make your own choices. If I didn't want to marry and have kids, that was up to me.

Whoa, better stop there. That line of thinking was too risky and I'd put way too much effort into my blank façade to ruin it now by breaking down here in front everyone. Plus, I was pretty sure Rose would have a stroke from the shock.

I went back to scouting out Rose and saw that Tanya had surpassed herself as she and the bronze haired guy, Edward, were no longer by the bookcase. Wow, not even midnight and already she'd got him up against the bathroom wall. I just hoped they wouldn't be too loud, not that I'd be able to hear them over the music, which had just got noticeably louder. I spied Rose by the fireplace, holding the bear head. It seemed to have fallen off the wall, taking some ornaments and glasses with it. She was looking at it with positive distaste and I saw my chance, swiftly weaving my way through the crowd and dashing up the stairs to my room without being seen by her. Thankful that my room was the first one on the second floor, I ran in, shut the door behind me, and sank against it, closing my eyes with relief.

However, now that I was away from the loud music, other noises were making themselves known to me. Noises that sounded like, "Oh god, yes..." and "Oh harder, baby. That's it, good boy." I opened my eyes quickly and through the moonlight saw a certain strawberry blonde kneeling naked on my bed with a certain bronze haired guy grinding and grunting behind her. One of his hands cupped her breast, the other on her clit, and her hands wound in his hair, fisting and tugging. I stared wide eyed at the couple, not even bothering with my fucking façade now. All night I had put up with stares, the looks, and the mind numbing conversation. I'd finally been able to retreat to the one place in the world where I felt any semblance of peace and some skank and man-whore were fucking on my bed.

I started screaming.

**A/N: Hope it was worth reading, reviews would be good just to get some feedback considering only three people have read this and 2 of them had to be nice to me or I'd hurt them. But of course it's up to you.**


	2. Beatrice and Benedick

**A/N: Okay chapter number 2 for enjoyment and criticism. I'm so pleased people have read this and put it on alert or favourite story, but only 2 reviews (love to cdunbar and Chalger) no need to be so silent. Even if it's really short, I will value every letter because I'm really uncertain of what you all think of this, I'm shamelessly begging for feedback here.**

**Anywho, many thanks to cdunbar for just being all round amazing, I demand you go and check out her stories and the temptation podcast _now_, links are all on her profile. She is the reason why this makes punctuational and grammatical sense, even if this sentence doesn't.**

**Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, the Much Ado About Nothing quote is all William Shakespeare's. Though I'd like to see him fight me for it. No I shouldn't joke about dead genius playwrights.  
**

2. Beatrice and Benedick

"_Beatrice: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence._

_Benedick: Then is courtesy a turncoat.- But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find it in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none._

_Beatrice: A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me."_

'_Much Ado About Nothing' by William Shakespeare_

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING FUCKING IN MY FUCKING BED!" They froze what they were doing and stared at me.

"GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!"

Things started to get a little hazy suddenly. I started breathing sporadically and my vision started blurring. I grasped my scarf hanging on the back of the door for support and a constant stream of nonsense flew out my mouth at full volume.

"GETOUTWHATTHEFUCK NOTHAPPENINGSUCHASKANKYOURSISTERDOESNTDESERVEYOUWHATSWRONGWITHYOUGETTHEFUCKOUT!"

However a low chuckle that escalated into this crazy maniacal laugh soon brought my senses back to me. I stared slack jawed at the asshole kneeling on my bed laughing at me.

Tanya swiftly hopped off my bed, grabbed her clothes and put them on, gave one last look at the mental guy she was just having sex with --, probably now relieved they were disturbed as he's clearly mentally unsound -- and sidled past me to get out the door as quickly as she could. At least she had the decency to look bashful.

I turned my head back to the bed to see his shoulders shaking with hysterical laughter as he buttoned up his shirt and pants. I opened my mouth to shout some more when Emmett burst in through the door, flinging me to the floor with the sheer force of it.

"Shit, Bella. I'm so sorry," Emmett said as he helped me up. When we were both standing straight, another chuckle was heard and Emmett jerked his head violently in the direction it had come from. "Edward, what the fuck are you doing in Bella's room?"

"Guess," I said icily. "Did you not happen to pass Tanya on your way in?"

"Yeah. Oh my god, Edward. You didn't."

"I did," Came his cheerful and almost proud reply.

"Why? I've never seen you look twice at a woman. Why her?" Emmett asked. Well that was odd. Turns out Mr. Fucks Strange Women In Other People's Beds Then Laughs Hysterically Afterwards has kept this little fetish a secret. I was secretly proud I was the one to expose the pervert.

"Why not?- Seemed like a good idea at the time," he answered, slurring the words as he got off my bed. He swayed dramatically but grabbed my curtains to steady himself.

"Jesus Christ, Edward. You're drunk," Emmett said almost in disbelief.

"Yup," Edward said with big shit eating grin on his face.

Emmett stared at Edward in confusion and, I suddenly realized Emmett had burst into my bedroom for no clear reason.

"Emmett, why did you come into my room?" I asked, trying desperately to keep my voice neutral and my face a semblance of the blank expression he was used to seeing. However it was incredibly hard whilst I felt so angry and the person causing said anger was only a few metres from me. Basically within hitting distance.

Emmett shifted uncomfortably, looking at the floor. "Well, I saw you disappear upstairs and I hoped I'd be able to try to convince you to come back down to the party." He paused and looked at me pleadingly. "Rose would want you to, you know."

I scoffed at that.

"Rose would want me to go back down to a party I had no desire to be at in the first place, would she? Well, aren't I lucky to have such an understanding sister!"

"Bella, please. Don't be like that. I know it's been rough on you recently and you and Rose aren't as close as you once were…" Emmett flicked his eyes nervously in Edward's direction not wanting to say something that would make me uncomfortable.

_Well that ship has sailed, _I thought bitterly.

Luckily Edward was too busy holding onto my bookcase for dear life while he tried to examine my book collection and swaying violently. Emmett, seeing that he was suitably distracted, carried on.

"You know Rose cares about you. She just wants you to be _you_ again Bells. Please." He placed his hand on my arm and looked earnestly into my eyes with a little smile on his face. It took all my might not to fling his hand off my arm and punch him right in the face.

"Emmett," my voice dangerously low, " I do not want to talk about this. I _am_ me, this is me now. I'm sorry if you and Rose don't like it, I'm sure I can find somewhere else to live if it makes you uncomfortable." I knew this was a low blow and, the hurt that crossed Emmett's face definitely made me aware, if I wasn't already. I tried to feel bad but all I could find inside me was rage, and I knew exactly who I could take it out on.

I spun around before Emmett had a chance to answer me and marched over to Edward. "Why are you still here? Why haven't you left with your _girlfriend_? What kind of freak laughs after being caught having sex in someone's bed anyway?"

He stared at me with his jaw slightly open, before he closed his mouth and started grinning, his green eyes glinting mischievously. "Why are you smiling!" I demanded, growing more furious with every second that passed.

"You look really cute when you're angry," he said, leaning in towards me so that there were only a few inches between his face and mine. I tried to take a step back but he'd angled his body so I was forced against the wall. I glared at him instead.

"Uh, Edward, maybe you should back off?" I heard Emmett say. I began to feel waves of panic as Edward ignored him and started to bring his face closer, looking into my eyes with that stupid inane grin still on his face. I fought the anxiety down and started taking deep breaths. A panic attack would not help right now. If I thought Rose and Emmett were bad with their need to make me normal again, God knows what they'd do if they saw me have a panic attack. Luckily, so far I'd managed to keep them a secret.

Taking an extra deep breath, I opened my eyes, saw how close Edward had actually come and his intent clearly written in his eyes I brought my knee up and jerked it quickly up into his groin. He froze and his eyes widened, the grin now most definitely gone. He exhaled and sank to the floor, Emmett rushed over and held him by the shoulders.

He looked at me disapprovingly and said, "Not cool Bella, so not cool."

I shrugged.

"Emmett, he was about to kiss me and you weren't gonna stop him so I had to."

"Bella, if he had done that I would have kicked the shit out of him, if that was what you wanted but you weren't moving. You closed your eyes. I thought you wanted him to!"

"Oh yeah, Emmett. I just love guys who have sex with other women in my room, don't apologize but find it hilarious, and then come onto me. They are just my type! What the hell is wrong with you? Just wait till I tell Rose."

Emmett's eyes widened in panic.

"Bella, please. I'm sorry, don't tell Rose." he begged.

"Alright, fine. I won't. Calm down."

He relaxed and turned back to Edward, "How you doin' man? You okay?" Edward grunted and swivelled his head towards me, glaring.

"So not only will I probably never be able to have sex again, I'm probably infertile now as well. Thanks a lot," Edward said, his voice dripping with venom and his stare cold.

I looked at him in shock, the change in attitude so extreme, though perfectly understandable I conceded. I squared my shoulders, lifted my head up and returned his stare with one equally cold. _Two could play at this game. _"Well you shouldn't try and kiss people who don't want to be kissed. I was defending myself."

"I don't recall you saying no."

"I think me shouting at you just moments before made it pretty clear I would not want to kiss you if the opportunity arose."

"Well, closing your eyes seemed to be a clear indication." His voice slurring slurred over the words.

"The grimace wasn't," I shot back. "Why is it my fault you won't be able to have sex again?" I asked, confused over his earlier statement.

"I think you'd have difficulty too if someone started screaming at you just before you were about to cum. I nearly had a fucking heart attack. I'm probably gonna get flashbacks whenever I try now".

He glared at me, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. I hated the fact he was back to finding me funny and spat "Good" at him.

He raised his eyebrows before frowning at me, "Why is that good?" he said tersely, standing up, shrugging Emmett off and stalking toward me.

"Because it is. I sincerely hope that the next time you find yourself on the brink of nirvana, so close to paradise you could practically taste it, whether you're with someone or by yourself, you hear me screeching in your ear and _that _pleasure is denied to you forever."

He was standing directly in front of me, once again inches from my face as he towered over me. I felt vulnerable again but tried not to show it. Why did this man get to me so much? Any other volatile situation I always managed to keep my cool, but he made me feel like a little girl trying to take on Dracula.

I met his eyes steadily, the pure unbridled fury positively radiated off of him and I tried not to flinch away. Emmett came over to us and placed a restraining hand on Edward's shoulder. "Edward, dude, step away from Bella. Remember what happened last time."

"Don't worry Emmett, I have no intention of kissing her. I don't like the taste of lemon," he sneered.

"Good, because I'm not particularly fond of the taste of vomit," I retorted. He turned a sickly shade when I said the word vomit and I saw a light sheen of sweat develop on his brow. His knees started to buckle and Emmett caught him, leading him over to my bed to sit down.

"Don't put him there or he'll never leave!" I hissed.

"Bella, he needs to sit down before he hurls all over your floor. What would you prefer, him sitting on your bed for a bit just to sober up, or puke on your floor?"

"Fine, okay, whatever," I relented. I idly wondered how inappropriate it would be to do laundry in the middle of a party before deciding I didn't care. All I knew was I wasn't going to stay in here with that man, waiting for him to come to his senses and allow him to intimidate me some more. I started to strip the bed, tugging the sheets out from under Edward, not caring if it made him feel worse.

"Bella, what are you doing?" Emmett asked me.

"I'm washing the sheets. I'm sure as hell not going to sleep in them after what _they_ did in them."

"Bella, you can't. The party is still going on. Rose will kill you."

"Emmett, I really don't care. I am going to go and wash these, and if Rose asks why I will tell her. And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be the one she kills," I said looking pointedly at Edward. Emmett shrugged and muttered "It's your funeral" under his breath before returning to kneel in front of Edward on puke alert.

I walked out of my room, down the stairs and fought my way through the crowded living room to the kitchen. As I loaded my bed linen into the washer and pointedly ignored the snickers I heard, Rose trotted up to me.

"Bella, what are you doing?" she asked, the smile on her face a cover for the dangerous edge to her voice.

"I'm washing my sheets." I said calmly and factually.

"Yes, I can see that. What I cannot see is why," she ground out between her teeth, the smile turning into a grimace.

As I was about to reply I saw Alice and Jasper making their way through the crowd that had started to gather to witness Rose's crazy sister do her laundry at one in the morning. I raised my finger and pointed it at Alice. "Because her brother was having sex with Tanya in my bed and there's no fucking way I'm sleeping in _their_ sex sheets!"

"He did what!" Alice screeched, her face livid.

"He was having sex with Tanya in my bed," I repeated, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh. My. God," Rose said.

"Tell me everything," Alice said with a determined look on her face, her arms crossed mirroring mine. _What she was determined about I had no idea but she couldn't be mad at me_, I thought. _I_ hadn't done anything wrong.

"I went upstairs to my room just to cool down and get away from the heat and noise for a minute," I heard Rose snort at my lie as I tried to sidestep the whole, 'I was actually trying to get out of making awkward conversation with you' thing, "and walked in on Tanya and your brother doing it on my bed. After shouting at them for a minute, _he _starts laughing hysterically like a headcase, _she_ gets dressed and leaves, then Emmett bursts in thinking I was digging my way the hell out of here like Steve McQueen. So I try to get some answers out of your brother, so far not hearing an apology, and he tries to fucking kiss me! So I knee him in the groin and we started arguing. When he started to look like he was gonna vomit, and Emmett sat him on my bed I decided it was time to clean my sheets and when they're done, hopefully he'll be gone and I can get some sleep."

Alice and Rose gaped at me for a minute, while Jasper just snickered. I hoped Alice wasn't annoyed that I may have severely damaged the chance of her being an aunt, but then I thought, judging by the kind of person their father would be, maybe it's a good thing. God knows what he'd spawn.

"I am so sorry, Bella. I can't believe he did all that. I know this is the first time you've met him but please believe me, he is not usually this way. In fact, I've never heard of him doing something like this. I didn't think he even particularly liked women."

"Well trust me, I have it on pretty good authority he definitely isn't gay. Just ask Tanya."

"No, I don't mean that. I know he's straight. He just doesn't ever really talk or hang around women much. When I saw him talking to her earlier I was kinda glad that he was actually showing interest in someone. Though not the person I wanted him to."

She shot me a look that made alarm bells go off in my head. _Nuh-uh, no way. Misogynists are definitely not my type. _She must of seen my caught in the headlights expression because she swiftly carried on, " Really, Bella, he's a nice guy and a great brother. I'm so sorry your first impression of him is so out of character."

I shrugged and said, "Well he is pretty drunk. I don't think he could even see straight after he was finished calling me bitter."

"Wait, he called you bitter?" I heard Jasper strangle out as he tried to stifle more laughter. I nodded.

"Why?"

"I may have said that I hoped I'd permanently put an end to any chance of him ever having an orgasm again."

"Wow, brutal," he snickered.

"Yeah well, I'm probably scarred for life too. I'm gonna probably start having flashbacks every time I open my bedroom door," I said defensively.

"But Bella, are you okay?" Rose said sidling up to me and putting an arm round my shoulders with a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, why?" I answered carefully, allowing my usual blank tone to creep back into my voice.

"Well…" She shot a nervous glance at Alice and Jasper, who were now looking at me curiously. "You're quite worked up over this, more worked up than I've seen you in a very long time, and I just want to make sure you're okay." I noticed she couldn't quite keep the glee out of her face that I was actually beginning to have human reactions again. I couldn't feel annoyed at her though. This was probably the most tactful I'd ever seen her. Holding her usual bull-headed bluntness back took strength and I felt grateful.

"I know, but honestly I'm fine." I laid a reassuring hand on her arm and her eyes widened in shock at the fact I'd willingly made physical contact.

"Oh, here he comes," I heard Jasper say, causing me and Rose to break eye contact and turn our heads to see Emmett half supporting, half dragging Edward through the crowd towards us.

"Guess Bella's told you everything, huh?" Emmett asked. Jasper chuckled as Alice glared at Edward and nodded. "Well, he's feeling a bit better, chucking up three times in the toilet certainly helped, but I think maybe it's time he went home."

"Yeah, you're right. Alice and I were gonna be leaving soon anyways," Jasper replied. Emmett passed Edward over to Jasper and he noticeably sagged as he struggled to take all of Edward's weight.

"Thanks for inviting us. It was nice to meet you, Bella. Sorry my brother- in- law was such an asshole to you,." Jasper said quickly in a very strained voice, nodding at Rose, Emmett and me before stumbling his way through the crowd to the door, dragging a comatose Edward with him.

"Rose, I'll call you tomorrow. Bella, I'll get your number off Rose to sort out that shopping trip. And Emmett, take care." Alice tripped out before kissing each of us on the cheek, her attempt to reach Emmett's before he graciously leant down fucking hilarious. She then danced out the room after her husband.

_Shit, I forgot about that damn shopping trip! _The chances of me getting out of that looked decidedly slimmer now. _Maybe if I act aloof enough she'll give up and it'll be over quickly. Like half an hour quickly, _I thought desperately to myself.

I yawned fiercely but tried to hide it by lowering my head so my hair fell forward. The extreme emotions I'd felt in the past hour had finally caught up on me. I decided to forget about waiting for my bedcovers and go to bed now. I sleepily bid Emmett and Rosalie goodnight, grateful to hear no words of protest from them, and trudged up the stairs to my room. Peeking cautiously into my room to check I had no new horny couple to deal with, I flopped onto my empty bed in relief, shutting my eyes and falling into a deep and mercifully swift sleep.

One thing I was sure of, although I was definitely pissed at Edward Cullen and pretty much hated him right now, shouting at him had felt so wonderfully liberating that it allowed me to have my first nightmare- free sleep in a year.

_I've got to get this shit on tap._

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it, next chapter should be up sometime next week. However Edward may be very very different, not only from the books but from how he has appeared so far. **


	3. The Mourn No Knight Shall Break

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long, I had some major problems with this chapter.**

**As always much love and thanks to cdunbar for being my beta and all round amazing person. But even more so because 1. it's her birthday today. Happy Birthday! and 2. I haven't done this chapter how I said I would, it's more of a filler with all the good stuff happening in the next one. Totally understand if you stop reading now, but only if it's because you're going to read cdunbars and review(!) if you haven't already. It is her birthday.**

**WARNING: A SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER MIMICS SELF HARM BUT IT IS NOT THE INTENT OF THE CHARACTER TO HURT THEMSELVES.  
**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight or Dream Land, only in paperback form. Might aswell apologize to the spirit of Christina Rossetti while ****I'm at it aswell, sorry for completely corrupting the line 'the night no morn shall break' in your poem (same one I quoted) but it just was too tempting for what I wanted to say.  
**

3. The Mourn No Knight Shall Break

"_She left the rosy morn,_

_She left the fields of corn,_

_For twilight cold and lorn_

_And water springs._

_Through sleep, as through a veil,_

_She sees the sky look pale,_

_And hears the nightingale_

_That sadly sings."_

_Dream Land by Christina Rossetti_

I woke up slowly the next morning. I was laying on my stomach, my arms under the pillow, hugging it to my face. I nestled my head further into it as consciousness returned unbidden to me. I didn't want to wake up; I didn't want to have to pull my act back together. I laid there wondering what would happen if I went downstairs and let myself feel everything, if I shut nothing out and showed Rose and Emmett the person I was now.

But I wasn't brave enough yet.

So I just snuggled down further into my pillow and under my duvet, letting the birds outside my window call to each other and the weak winter sunlight shine on my face through the thin gauzy curtains.

Falling asleep to moonlight used to annoy me. I needed the absolute comfort of darkness. Now it suffocated me. The friendly glow of the moonlight was what I needed now, to remind me of the world I would one day return to when my sentence was up.

I couldn't deny the day any longer, the sounds of Rosalie and Emmett downstairs were growing louder and I desperately needed the bathroom. I reluctantly dragged myself from my bed with a sigh and started my day anew.

As I was washing my hands in the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror. The dark circles under my eyes had gone down. I'd slept so well last night, I'd had no nightmares or any dreams at all. It was blissful. I'd had hours of complete blankness, my mind a void. If only I could be like that all the time, it would make everything so much easier.

I dried my hands on the small white hand towel draped over the white towel rack in the white bathroom. I shuddered at the coldness and left quickly, walking smoothly down the stairs through the living room and into the kitchen.

It was Sunday, late morning. Rosalie sat on a stool at the breakfast bar with her back to me while Emmett buttered a piece of toast on the other side. I was still in my pyjamas considering I had no plans today, apart from my usual Sunday routine. Emmett looked up when he heard me shuffle into the kitchen, the grin on his face faded when he took in my expression. I saw hope die in his eyes and felt a split second pang of guilt which I swiftly pushed away and forgot about.

I suspected after last night's emotional hurricane he expected me to be back to the Bella he originally knew. But the blank look on my face and my dead eyes shot that hope right down.

"Morning, Bella. Sleep well?" Emmett asked pleasantly. Rose half turned in her seat to acknowledge my presence but didn't really take her eyes away from the magazine she was reading.

"Yes, thank you, Emmett. You?" I answered politely and evenly. Emmett frowned at my tone.

"Yeah," he answered hesitantly and unsure. I made myself a bowl of cereal and sat down next to Rosalie at the breakfast bar. I kept my head down and concentrated on eating my breakfast, but noticed out of the corner of my eye a silent, and quite expressive, conversation going on between Rose and Emmett. I couldn't see Rose very well but Emmett seemed to be doing a lot of violent mouthing and pointing. I heard Rosalie sigh and turn to me, putting down her magazine. "So Bella, no nightmares last night. That's good," Rose said, her tone light.

I carefully put my spoon down and turned toward her, keeping my guard up and my voice careful. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I didn't hear a peep out of you last night, first time actually. Wonder why that is." Her attempt at keeping this innocent was pathetic and I fought every instinct in my body telling me to glare at her. I kept my face empty.

"What is it that you normally hear?" I needed to know. I knew what my nightmares were about of course, I knew I had them, but I didn't know I was vocal about it.

"Usually it's just cries... whimpers, you know." Her voice shook and she glanced at Emmett nervously, not sure how to continue. I sat patiently, waiting for what she would say next, convinced I would hate it. But Emmett startled me. He gently took one of my small hands in both of his giant ones and looked at me in concern and worry. "You also say things sometimes, Bells." I froze at his words. Panic shot up my spine and I sat there rigidly, gritting my teeth and not daring to breathe.

"What do I say," I managed to grind out.

"You say his name, and say you're sorry." I stared at Emmett. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't drop my façade, I just couldn't. It wasn't something I decided to pull on or off like a comfortable sweater. It was just there when I needed it, always. Except in my sleep.

So I did the only thing I could, because I _did_ have my façade back, and it wasn't showing any signs of disappearing. I pulled my hand out from Emmett's, tore my gaze away, ignored the worry and pain I saw on his and my sister's faces and coolly said, "I'm sorry if I've been disturbing your sleep, I didn't realize. But with the racket you two make nearly every night I guess we're even. Although, as I fell asleep before both of you last night and luckily missed out on your performance for the first time since I've been here, maybe that's why I slept so peacefully." I calmly stood up, cleaned my dish, and went upstairs to get dressed, leaving Emmett flushed red in embarrassment and Rosalie flushed red in anger.

_I am totally nailing the Ice Queen routine._

I was in my room making my bed when I heard Rosalie storm up the stairs and into my room. I heard her slam the door, my back to her, and I steeled myself, waiting for her wrath.

"What the fuck was that all about, Bella! Emmett was just being nice. He's worried about you and you go and say that. What the fuck, Bella!"

"And you aren't," I couldn't help myself from answer.

"I'm not what?" I turned around to face her, perfectly calm, perfectly in control. She, however, looked as if she was going to explode from anger.

"You aren't worried about me?" I couldn't help note her words earlier, proving further my personal theories on her.

"O-of course I am, Bella. I didn't mean only Emmett's worried about you. We all are."

"Who's we?"

"Well, me, Emmett, Mum, Dad, even Phil."

"There's no need, I'm fine," came my automatic reply, flowing smoothly out of my lips with ease.

"Bella, I don't think you are," Rose said quietly. I looked away from her. I couldn't talk about this, especially not with her. I knew she was curious and wanted answers but it wasn't time yet. To be honest I didn't know when that time would be, if it would be weeks, months or even years from now. I just knew it wasn't today.

Rose had never gotten a straight answer out of me. All she knew was about a year ago I rang her up and asked her in a dead voice if it was okay if I lived with her for a while. I wasn't sure how long, I'd get a job, contribute toward bills. Anything, I just needed to get out of Forks. That dead voice had surprised Rosalie so much she'd agreed, and when I'd arrived she was so stunned at my change in personality she'd stayed silent. She at least knew me well enough not to pry. I would talk when I was ready. And a year later, she was none the wiser, and that dead voice that had shocked her so much had just become familiar.

I'd unconsciously turned away from her and walked to the window, looking out at the clear open sky. I heard Rose come up behind me and slip an arm round my shoulders. She leant down and kissed the side of my head tenderly. She then walked back to the door and quietly opening it. "Emmett and I are going out for the day, so I'll see you later." She closed the door gently behind her and twenty minutes later, whilst I still stood by the window, I heard her and Emmett leave.

I turned away and sighed, it was time to start my Sunday routine. I threw on some jeans and long sleeved black top, went across the hall to the bathroom and washed my face before brushing my teeth. Going back into my room, I brushed my hair and twisted it up, holding it in place with a hair grip. I then knelt down beside my bed and pulled out a shoebox. In it were my novels, three finished with my fourth still in progress. I reverently ran my hand across the cover of my first novel that lay on top. It was printed out on plain A4 paper and put into a clear folder, nothing special to anyone but me. I didn't think my work was especially good, but I was proud of it. It was me in those stories. Whenever I needed to work through something, I wrote and it would heal me. That changed though, because some things run too deep.

I put the lid back on the box and placed it on my bed. _Later,_ I thought to myself. I went to the stereo and pressed play, the room filled with the opening bars of 'Ain't Got No, I Got Life' by Nina Simone. I sat at my desk and lifted the lid to my laptop. Switching it on and opening up my document, I set to work.

Whilst my album of 'The Very Best of Nina Simone' played, I steadily invented the future for Aquarians, Pisceans, Arians, Geminis and Virgos for the coming week. I'd already finished the others yesterday morning. My Sunday routine and my Saturday routine were alarmingly similar, I realized.

Midway through 'Times They Are A Changin',' I'd finished my horoscopes for the week, e-mailed it to my editor, saved the work and turned off my laptop. I retrieved the shoebox from my bed and pulled out the notebook underneath the three manuscripts that was my current novel. I sat on my bed and got my favourite writing pen and a bar of chocolate from my bedside drawer. This was my favourite part of Sunday, even though writing no longer had the soothing effect it once had, I revelled in the pleasure of just focusing completely on my own imaginary world. Nothing from reality could touch me whilst I was there. I was safer than anyone could ever be, I was happier than I could expect to be and I could make my characters have the story they deserved. I didn't always write happy endings, but I knew this one needed it. _Someone has to have a happy ending_, I thought darkly.

I looked up from my notebook a couple of hours later, Nina Simone was silent, my chocolate bar had gone and the day was passing. I decided to stop, put the notebook back in the box, the box back under my bed and went to run my bath.

_And so it begins again_. My usual curiosity at how my body would react to the tests today was gone. As much as I hated to admit it, the events of this morning had gotten to me. I hated the guilt welling up inside me; my usual self hatred didn't need anymore fuel.

_But I am a heartless bitch now, I deserve it._

I filled the tub with scalding hot water, poured in a small amount of bubble bath, stripped, and put a foot in to test the temperature. I swiftly followed with the other and stood upright in the bath, the heat harder to bear today. Not by a lot, but harder. I waited until my body became used to it and lowered into the water. I washed myself and my hair, and shaved quickly whilst the water was still blisteringly hot.

Laying back, I allowed my muscles to relax and my entire body to sink into the water. I lay there thinking whilst I waited for the water to cool, I thought about my book, about the direction I wanted to take it. I thought about Rose and Emmet, wondering what they were doing today. I then found myself thinking about last night, about Edward Cullen. I wondered why he provoked such a strong reaction from me. I chalked it up to stress and tiredness. But I couldn't help think wistfully of last night's sleep, how peaceful it was, how much I needed it though I didn't deserve it. I knew the nightmares would be back full force tonight, and I might as well just accept it.

_Fuck I'm sombre today, last night's party drained my sarcasm quota I swear_, I thought wryly, desperately and pointlessly trying to inject some humour back into myself. Last night's deep sleep however had made my mind just a little too clear and reflective though. _Still worth it._ I mentally shrugged.

The water was now lukewarm and I let some of the water drain before putting the cold tap on until the tub refilled. My teeth started chattering from the cold and I wrapped my arms around my body in an effort to retain some body heat. I lay there like that, quietly chilling myself to the bone for twenty minutes before deciding that was long enough. I pulled the plug, got out, wrapped myself in a towel and left the coldness of the bathroom for the warmth of my room.

_Definitely harder that time._

Once I was back in my room I dried myself off and put on some underwear, ready for the next test. I decided to forego the pinching and pulled out the Stanley knife from my desk drawer. I faced the mirror and raised my right arm, holding the blade in my left hand. Pressing the blade flat against the soft flesh of the inside of my upper arm, my left hand shaking slightly from the cold, I gritted my teeth to maintain concentration and began to press down, determined not to break the skin this time.

_Ding Dong!_

The chime of the doorbell rang loudly throughout the house and broke my concentration. My hand slipped and blade went into my arm, deeply, swiftly, and painfully.

_I definitely felt that._

My brain, it appeared, had no problem registering pain in fairly large amounts, just not gentle or moderate amounts. The shock probably hadn't helped.

"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered to myself as I grabbed some tissues to press against the bleeding wound. The doorbell chimed again. Panicking, I chucked on the clothes I was wearing earlier and managed to stuff more tissues down my sleeve through the neckline to hold against the wound. I clamped my arm against my side to hide the bulge, hopefully stem the bleeding and keep the tissues in place. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_ was my internal commentary as I rushed downstairs while the doorbell still chimed insistently. I took a deep breath to calm myself and ensure my façade was up and secure. Of course it was, I needed it and it was there.

I opened the door and standing there, with a hard look on his face and cold dark green eyes, holding a bunch of Freesias was Edward Cullen.

**A/N: Also extremely sorry for the shortness and Edwardlessness. Promise to make it up to you with the next one.**

**Give you three guesses as to what the chapter title means though.  
**


	4. Selfish Disdain of the Feelings of Other

**A/N: First of all I love you all. Each and everyone of you. And the guys who've left reviews, seriously, you rock my world. Thank you! **

**Okay two tiny things, **

**1. Bella does not self harm, they are tests on her skin's sensitivity. Yes it's screwed up, but in her head it's okay. However she is not self harming, she just doesn't have a clear sense of logic at the moment. Sorry if some of you got that, but I know someone who didn't and I just wanted to make it perfectly clear.**

**2. The ever amazing cdunbar also betas for JeNnNn, her first story is being posted on friday. Please go check it out, it's sounds like a really good coming of age story. Plus she's great. It will be called Walking on a Dream or If I Know You, probably the second.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen and the line on the card belongs to someweirdgirl, seriously all the credit for that goes to her, and it fricking hilarious.  
**

4. Selfish Disdain of the Feelings of Others

"_From the very beginning - from the first moment, I may almost say - of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike."_

_Elizabeth~ 'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen_

_Oh My God._

"Hello."

Pause.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but I felt I should come and apologize for my behaviour last night."

Edward Cullen stood on my doorstep looking surly and uncomfortable, offering me the quickest and angriest spoken apology known to man. He thrust the flowers in my face and I just found myself looking down at them dumbly, my mouth slightly agape. A growing damp patch on my arm made my brain start to work again. I took the flowers and stepped back. I looked down pretending to smell the flowers but in fact checked my arm. The blood had completely soaked through my shirt.

_Thank Christ it's black._

I could feel the blood running down my arm and I made the mistake of breathing through my nose. The smell of rust and salt made my head spin. I jerked my head up and closed my eyes, concentrating on breathing in clean air. I was vaguely aware of Edward Cullen still standing uncomfortably on the doorstep and probably thinking I was insane.

_Yeah, well, takes one to know one, Mr. Exhibitionist._

"Umm, they're freesias, thought you might like them. Are you okay?" he said, his voice deep and confused still with that ever present edge of surliness.

I lowered my head back to a normal level and looked at him, trying to focus on either 1) not passing out or 2) not throwing up all over the bouquet. I was about to reply when I heard a distinct splattering sound.

_Shit. Mayday! Mayday!_

We'd both heard the noise, but he had apparently caught the movement. Edward stared at a spot next to my feet with a look of alarm on his cold, marble face. I looked down knowing what I would see; a perfect little burgundy circle now adorned my sister's hardwood floor. I looked at my sleeve and saw another droplet of blood threatening to leap to the floor to join its predecessor. The sight, now combined with the smell which I could not get rid of, made my skin turn clammy. All the blood rushed out of my head, to my fucking arm apparently, and my vision faded. As black spots crowded my eyes, I was vaguely aware of swaying to one side and being caught very suddenly by a pair of very large, male hands. One hand stayed on my ribcage, the other went to my knees, and I was carried bridal style over to the breakfast bar where I was gently placed. The hands left and moved to my shoulders to keep me upright. My head lolled forward, my eyes closed.

"Bella? Bella?"

The hands shook my shoulders slightly.

"Ngugh." I made a strange noise in protest. I opened my eyes slowly, only to be met by a pair of the darkest green ones I've ever seen.

"Are you alright?" The eyes asked. I tore my own away from the penetrating stare and took in some more. The eyes had thick, dark brown eyebrows above them pulled together, and a pale forehead above those, creased up into a heavy frown. And above that was a very strangely styled mop of dark brown hair with a brilliant bronze shine to it.

_Hang on, I remember that hair._

I came to earth with a bump and realized the person I'd been so closely examining, with what I'm sure was most likely a gormless expression on my face, was Edward Cullen. I pulled myself up to sit straighter and he took his hands away from my shoulders. I still felt their warmth though, and also on my ribs and the backs of my knees. Basically anywhere his hands had touched me. Even though they were no longer there, their warmth was.

_Weird, maybe he's got body temperature issues._

I suddenly realized he was staring at my sleeve, scowling. I turned my head away, not wanting to lose control over my brain again. He caught my action and pulled off some kitchen paper towel that was on a roll on the breakfast bar.

"Don't look if the sight makes you queasy," he said.

"It's the smell, too." I glanced at him out the corner of my eyes. He was looking at me in surprise.

"You can smell the blood?"

"Yes," I answered. His face just went back to scowling and he began to roll up my sleeve, mopping up the blood as he went.

"Breathe through your mouth then."

When he rolled my sleeve up as far as it could go, he saw the edge of the tissue I'd stuffed there earlier poking out. I turned my head to see what his reaction would be now, but took his advice and breathed through my mouth. He pulled the tissue out that was nearly saturated with blood and I gagged.

"Sorry." I heard him mutter. I shook my head and looked down at my lap, which I realized held my flowers. I picked them up and inhaled a lungful of their scent to distract myself. I looked back at him and instantly flinched. While I had been focusing on the flowers, he had managed to awkwardly lift up my rolled sleeve to see the source of all my flowing blood, discovered my wound, wedged some tissues up there, and was pinching my arm to keep pressure on the wound to make the bleeding stop. He had now turned to look at me and I was faced with an expression of pure fury.

"What is that?" he growled out.

"Ummm." _Shit, now my façade leaves me? When I need it most? Especially around him? _

"Well?"

"It's not what it looks like." _Brilliant, Bella. That'll stop him from asking any more questions._

"So it's not an inch long cut, probably caused by a blade of some kind?" His voice was getting more dangerous by the second.

"Well, it is, but it wasn't intentional." I hated how I'd suddenly started sounding like a little girl who had been caught by her father doing something she shouldn't.

"And how exactly did a blade manage to connect with the inside of your upper arm?"

"It's sort of your fault, actually," I tried to say jokingly. _If my façade has temporarily gone AWOL, I might as well go for humour since it's the next best thing._

He didn't laugh.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, well, I was just, ummm, doing this thing that I do everyday when the doorbell rang, and it startled me and the knife slipped."

"What thing?" _Oh God, why can I not think of any good reason as to how I'd accidentally cut myself there?_

"I do these tests everyday. On the sensitivity of my skin." I kept it short and vague, I wasn't about to spill all my dirty little secrets to a perfect stranger whilst I couldn't even tell my own sister. _Shit, Rose!_

"Please don't say anything to Rose or Emmett about this. They'll only jump to the wrong conclusions and probably send me off to a padded cell. Or my mom." I honestly couldn't decide which would be worse.

"Why do you test the sensitivity of your skin? And why do you use knives?" His tone was now thankfully absent of anger, just curious. But it was still deep and rich. Smooth.

"I use temperature as well, and I only recently started using the Stanley knife. I used to just pinch myself. And it's never my intention to draw blood. Why would I if it makes me faint?"

He conceded my point by nodding and then lowered his head, frowning in thought. He lifted his head again and met my stare. "Why do you do it, though?"

I sighed, honestly unsure how to answer this.

"You're going to think I'm insane, if you don't already." He shook his head.

"I just don't feel things very easily, tactile-wise." _Except your touch apparently. God, that sounds weird._

I lowered my head not wanting to meet his questioning eyes.

"How come?" I heard him softly say. I shrugged in response, unwilling to say anything further. I sighed and, obviously sensing my reluctance, Edward asked me where he could find a band-aid and a wipe for my arm now that the bleeding had stopped. I pointed at the cupboard under the sink.

"There's a tupperware box in there with a yellow lid. All the medicine stuff is in there," I directed him.

He took his hand off my arm but still the heat remained. I frowned in puzzlement. He went to get the tub and returned a few seconds later. He opened it and took out an anti-bacterial wipe, wiping up all the dried blood, and then put a waterproof band-aid over the cut. He stepped back and I jumped down from the counter, collecting all the tissues and wrappings and put them in the bin.

Suddenly the atmosphere felt tense and uncomfortable, the familiarity that had developed as he cleaned me up had gone. He stood by the breakfast bar with his hands in his pockets, his face cast down. I stood opposite him, pulling on my sleeves so they covered my hands. I felt like a little girl again as I looked at him nervously.

"So, uh." He cleared his throat and looked at me. His expression was now formal and distant, wary. "Maybe you should put those flowers in water." He nodded his head toward the bouquet I'd left on the side. I moved into the kitchen and started hunting through the cupboards to find a vase, but after looking for five minutes I gave up and settled for a white ceramic jug.

_Why is Rosalie so obsessed with white? _Her colour scheme was always white and sometimes another colour. My room was white with purple bedcovers, lamp and curtains. Her bedroom and the bathroom were both completely white. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was trying to channel John Lennon a lá the 'Imagine' video.

I reached for the bouquet and noticed a card hidden among the heads of the lilac coloured flowers. I pulled it out and written in a flourished scrawl were the words:

_Bella,_

_I'm really sorry if I got any pre cum on your sheets. Wanna go to dinner sometime?_

I didn't know whether to start laughing hysterically or start throwing things. Instead, I calmly put the card down, pulled off the plastic wrapper around the flowers and arranged them in the jug.

As I walked over to the sink to fill up the jug, a naughty, cruel and sneaky thought occurred to me. I'd had a lovely sleep last night, I felt more whole than I had in a while, my brain was starting to de mist, and this golden opportunity has fallen right into my lap.

I never was one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I turned off the tap and set the flowers down on the counter. I went to sit on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and looked up at Edward, who had been watching me the whole while, his expression giving no hint to what he was thinking. His eyes too dark to tell.

"Thank you for the flowers. That was very thoughtful of you."

No reaction.

"Why freesias?"

His face was still carefully controlled, but I saw his left hand twitch, no longer in his pocket.

"They're very pretty, and they also have no sentimental value attached to them."

I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Lilies make me think of funerals, roses are associated with love, care and friendship, and carnations are cheap and remind me of gas stations or hospitals." he said.

"What about gerberas?"

"They're only slightly better than carnations."

I nodded. Time for the kill.

"You have interesting handwriting."

He looked at me, confused, "Uh, thank you."

"You're welcome. Bit girly though."

His face coloured. He knew he'd been caught.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Yep." My tone hardened and I popped the 'p' as it left my mouth.

"Do you want to know what Alice wrote on the card?" I turned to my side and picked up the card lying near me. He nodded cautiously.

I read it out to him. He didn't laugh. All the colour drained from his face and he brought a shaky hand up to run through his hair.

"Bella, I am so sorry for what you walked in on. It was incredibly stupid of me. Please accept my apology. Alice told me what happened and I can only assure you of how mortified and remorseful I am."

"Wait, Alice _told_ you?"

"Yes."

"You don't remember?"

"I was umm, pretty drunk. So no, no, I don't really remember anything of last night. I don't remember you."

"You don't remember backing me up against the wall and trying to kiss me?"

"Uh no," he said, looking sheepish, appalled, and confused.

"You don't remember calling me bitter?" I got up from the stool and began to walk toward him, doing my best impression of a pissed off stalking lioness as I could.

"No." His voice had grown small.

"You don't remember accusing me of making you impotent?" That wasn't necessarily what he said, but he didn't need to know that. He swallowed and his face darkened slightly.

"No."

"And you don't remember me having to knee you in the balls so you would get out of my face?"

"You kneed me in the balls?" That did it.

"Yep." I said proudly wearing a smug smile. His eyes turned cold and he scowled at me.

"You really shouldn't do that to men."

"It was self defense."

"I don't care. That can be really damaging."

"You're lucky I didn't remove them."

"I'd like to see you try."

"No thanks, I've heard it's pointless to go looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Oh, very mature."

"I try."

"You should try harder."

"That's just what Tanya said."

"You little-"

"What? Go on. What, Edward? I'm a bitch? Yeah, I probably am but at least I'm not some sick pervert."

"I'm not a pervert."

"Yes, you are. What kind of person has drunken sex at a house party in one of the resident's rooms? And then turns up the next day with flowers and an apology they were obviously forced to come and do?"

"I said I was sorry."

"Yeah, you can say it till the cows come home, Edward, but it doesn't make it true."

"I _am _sorry!"

"Yeah, in your perverted little world probably."

"You're impossible. What do you want? _Blood_?"

"No thanks. If the sight of you is enough to turn my stomach, God knows what your blood would do."

"What the hell is going on in here?" Edward and I turned away from each other in the direction of the voice. Realizing how close we'd gotten in our argument, I jumped back from him. Standing in the doorway was Emmett and Rose - he was grinning from ear to ear and she looked confused.

"Edward just dropped by to apologize for being a complete and utter assface last night. Sadly, he thought I had the IQ of the first girl he convinced to suck him off." Emmett snorted. "And didn't count on me figuring out that Alice actually sent him over with his fake flowers and his fake apology."

"Those flowers aren't fake."

"The sentiment is."

"Whoa, whoa, you both need to chill the fuck out," Rose said standing between us and holding her arms out. Yeah, as if my 5" nothing could take his 6" nothing.

"I will, if she will," he said darkly. I gave him the finger.

"You're such a child," he sighed shaking his head. I scowled.

"You don't even know me, don't call me a child," I spat.

"Will you two stop! Bella, I do know you, and at the moment, yeah, you're being a child. Edward, I know you too, and you aren't exactly acting much better. Although it's not your fault, you can't see you're being goaded."

"You're goading me?" Edward asked in a tone lightened by disbelief. I shrugged. "Why?"

"You're easy," I answered simply. He stood there for a minute not knowing how to reply, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

"It's okay, don't feel bad. She's good at it," Emmett said. I turned to him, doing my own impression of a goldfish. He chuckled. "Don't look at me like that, Bells. You know you do."

"Not to everyone," I said defensively.

"No, only to people you know you can get a rise out of. You used to do it to Rose all the time." His face and tone turned sad. "It was funny."

"No, it wasn't," Rose muttered darkly under her breath. Emmett smiled briefly in her direction. I looked down, confused by what Emmett said, but also by the way he said it. Edward clearing his throat brought my mind back to reality.

"I better be going."

"Okay, Edward. See you later, man," Emmett said, clapping him on the back. Edward gave Rose a kiss on the cheek and nodded at me.

"Bella, go show Edward out and try not to kill him on the way," Rose directed me. I scowled at her but did what she said anyway. I had my own reasons for needing to have another word with Edward. He followed me to the door and I stepped outside, shutting it behind him. The kitchen wasn't far away and I really didn't need Emmett and Rose eavesdropping.

"Listen, Bella. I really am sorry. I was mortified when Alice told me what I did. I just didn't know how to begin to apologize to you, especially considering I can't remember any of it."

"Whatever, Edward," I sighed. "What I followed you out here was to-" I paused, uncertain how to say this. Feeling uncomfortable to ask a favour of him after talking to him the way I did. Even though it was necessary and he kind of had it coming.

"Was to what?"

"Please don't tell anyone about earlier, my little incident." He smirked at me.

"You never answered my question."

"What question?" I asked, confused by his change in mood and conversation.

"About going to dinner with me."

"That wasn't your question, it was Alice's. Plus I think it was a joke. She seemed really upset with you last night."

"Yeah, she was, but I think it would be a good idea." He leaned down a little. Instantly my defences went up and I shrunk back, refusing to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I disagree." I made my voice cold.

"If you come out to dinner with me, I won't tell anyone about your arm." His tone sounded menacing and I looked up at his face in shock. The expression was dark, he looked angry and for the first time I felt slightly afraid of this man.

"Are you black-mailing me?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's easy." He shrugged in arrogance. I fought against the part of my brain telling me to slap him.

"I don't really have much choice in the matter, do I?"

"Not really, no. I'll call you to arrange it all." And with that he walked down the steps and off to his car, a silver Volvo, as I stared after him, mouth agape.

_Stupid shiny Volvo owner. Too much of a pussy to drive a real car._


	5. A Growing Sense of Fragility

**A/N: Please forgive the wait, this chapter just did not want to be written.**

**I'd just like to thank whenpoetryrises for pointing out my lack of warning, the relevant chapters now include a warning so people are more aware. I'm sorry for causing any unintentional offense. Now go and read her story Public Transport because it's amazing, I swear it has the sweetest Edward I've ever read.**

**Shout out to JeNnNn for keeping me entertained and being my guinea pig audience- You crack me up and this chapter would have taken even longer if it weren't for you. Hope you've all read her story If I Know You, if you haven't go do it now! It's so good and I'm not just saying that because of the Edward/Mrs Cope love.**

**And last but not least thanks to my beta cdunbar for being a punctuation goddess and me forcing her to beta this twice because I added more, a hell of a lot more.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and all it's creations belong to Stephenie Meyer and Just Like A Woman belongs to Bob Dylan (amazing song).  
**

5. A Growing Sense of Fragility

"_She takes just like a woman, yes, she does_

_She makes love just like a woman, yes she, does_

_And she aches just like a woman_

_But she breaks just like a little girl."_

_Just Like A Woman by Bob Dylan_

That night, my dreams skimmed the surface of my subconscious. I heard cries for help, tears and shouting through the walls of my mind. The sounds were muffled, unable to permeate the layers of protection I had built. I woke groggily, not fully rested, but nowhere near as exhausted as I had grown accustomed to. I peered through bleary eyes at my ceiling, staring at the textured pattern that had been plastered on. Allowing my mind to invent shapes that were not there. This was the nearest I got to cloud gazing now.

I thought back to yesterday after Edward had gone. The moment I was back in the house and the door was shut behind me, Rose and Emmett pestered me with questions about what had happened, expecting my emotional openness to continue.

They were mistaken, because much like before, I was back behind my mask where no one could see me.

I got up and got dressed. Rose and Emmett would have gone to work by now, Emmett into the city and Rose to Lincoln Elementary School, where she taught gym.

And I had a whole day of nothing to look forward to.

Life was quiet for me here in Glen Ellyn, I both welcomed and abhorred it. On the weekends I would finish off my fake horoscopes and work on my novel. During the week I would divide my time between desperately trying to think up a column or two that would appeal to overweight middle aged housewives with a moustache and a fat balding husband, (a lot harder than it sounds, since there's only so many 'How to reignite that spark' articles I could come up with and my editor would agree to publish) and wandering around Glen Ellyn itself. I mainly went to Lake Ellyn Park because not only was it nearby, but also being near water always made me feel calmer. It brought back childhood memories of being at the beach with my mom and Rose, at a time when I hadn't yet realized Renee was a parent in name only and Rose couldn't see past her pretty little nose to be much help.

And so the day passed mundanely. I tried a different tack and attempted to write an article on why it's time to get up, lose some weight and get a wax. These women need someone to be honest with them.

I also had my bath and did my tests before lunch. After last time, I was a bit nervous of the Stanley knife. To be honest, the two times I'd tried it, I'd accidentally drawn blood and given a strange man the wrong idea. I wasn't exactly willing to continue that avenue of curiosity. So I used the temperature as usual, and I pinched my skin in between a bull clip around the back of my knees. Interestingly, the numbness was starting to creep back a little bit.

_Huh, wonder what caused the two day blip?_

I then had some lunch and went for a walk around the neighbourhood. The day was chilly but sunny, everything seemed so bright and hopeful. I could feel spring pushing its way through. Ready to announce its arrival with a bursting heart.

Spring meant rebirth and change. Ironically, my rebirth coincided with spring too, nearly a year ago.

_Not long now_. The looming date was starting to weigh on my mind. I wish I could escape it, sleepwalk my way through it, but I couldn't. I was going to have to find a way to survive it. '_The first anniversary is always the hardest',_ Charlie's words came back to me, floating on the chill breeze that was not the cause of the shiver that ran through my body.

I meandered down my street and down Crescent Boulevard before heading back. My walk's only purpose was to get out and allow my mind to breathe, but some days, no matter where I was, I could only think of one thing and I was determined today was not going to be that day.

When I got back to the house, I went to my room. Pulling out an old favourite anthology of poems, I settled down amongst my pillows and read. A couple of hours later, the door opened and closed, announcing Rosalie's return from work, which only vaguely registered in my mind, and an hour after that, Emmett's did too.

I started feeling thirsty and put my book down to go and get a glass of juice from the kitchen. Once I was out of my room I could hear Rosalie and Emmett talking downstairs; however, it wasn't until I was at the top of the stairs that what I heard made me pause and listen.

"I'm serious, Rose. I'm worried about her and you should be, too."

"I am worried about her! She's my sister, of course I am. How can you even say that?"

"Because she's been like a fucking robot for nearly a year now. Turns up on our doorstep with no explanation and refuses to talk about Seattle or Forks. And every time you mention going to see Renee or Charlie, she just walks out of the room!"

"What are you saying? You don't want her here anymore?"

"No, of course not. I love Bella, she's a sister to me. But I think she needs help. And I don't think we can give it to her."

"What do you think she needs? Therapy?"

"Well yeah, it couldn't hurt."

"I'd like to see you suggest it to her."

"I just might, Rose. I think I'd kill just to get a reaction out of her. Get the old Bella back."

"You miss her, don't you."

"Of course, don't you?"

"Yes, it's just…"

"What?"

"You're going to hate me for saying this."

"For saying what?"

"I don't think I knew her well enough to miss."

"Rose, what do you mean?"

"We never really bonded, not like sisters should. I love her, of course I do, and I want what's best for her, but there was never the closeness I wished for."

"You always seemed close to me."

"That's because Bella's very good at caring for people and you interpreted it as intimacy."

"What do you mean?"

"She's my little sister, but she always made me feel like the younger one. She just had this innate ability to be responsible and caring. Not exactly maternal, because she used to look at kids as though they were a different species, but... benevolent nonetheless."

"I knew she looked after Renee a lot."

"Don't even get me started on my mother and Bella's relationship, Emmett. I just don't know how that happened."

"It's not that bad."

"It could be better. Them talking would be nice."

"Bella talking full stop would be nice."

"She doesn't seem to have that trouble around Edward."

"Yeah, how about that?"

"I don't understand it. She never talks to men, she never goes near them. It's hard enough to get her to talk to women, but around him, it's like..."

"The Bella we used to know."

"Yeah."

"Maybe it's because of the situation. He was doing something in her personal space that she found offensive and now can't help but get pissed whenever she sees him."

"Yeah, maybe," Rose agreed absent-mindedly.

"Did you see him today?"

"Yeah, in the staff room at lunch."

"How was he? Did he say anything about yesterday?"

"No. You know Edward, elusive as ever."

"Him and Bella would make a right pair."

"Yeah," she chuckled weakly.

Just then the phone rang, startling me out of the frozen position I hadn't realized I'd assumed as I crouched, transfixed by their conversation. Completely unaware that this was how they felt.

"Bella!" Rose shouted. I tensed and started panicking, unsure as to what to do. I darted silently back into my room and made a show of walking back out and down the stairs.

"Yes?" I asked, my mask firmly in place.

"Umm, it's Edward, on the phone for you," Rose said, holding out the cordless phone to me. Speak of the devil and he shall call you up, apparently.

I momentarily hesitated before reaching for the phone.

"Hello?" I evenly said into the mouthpiece.

"Bella? It's Edward Cullen." I started to walk back to my room out of earshot.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you were free tomorrow evening for dinner?"

"Why?"

"I thought we'd already established this."

"Your previous statement is still true?"

"Do you mean am I still blackmailing you?" I ground my teeth at the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

"Yes, I am."

"Well, then I'm free, aren't I?" I said tersely.

"I guess you are. I'll pick you up at seven o'clock tomorrow night."

"Okay, fine. Goodbye."

"Bye, Bella."

I stabbed the hang up button as hard as I could and threw the phone on my bed in frustration. I sank to the floor and held my head in my hands, Rose and Emmett's words flying round and round, followed closely by Edward's.

Therapy?

Regret?

Renee?

Date?

It was all too much. I could feel the panic rising like bile and I fought to maintain steady breaths. I placed both my hands on my chest and started gasping for air. I screwed my eyes closed and mentally shouted 'out, in, out,' desperately trying to calm myself down. My panic attack, however, only became more exacerbated by my desperation to calm down. I felt the walls close in on me, tears streaming down my face as noiseless sobs shook my body. I felt like the world around me was stuck in a vacuum, all the air and space getting sucked out and me along with it. I knew I needed to stop, right now. The no nonsense authoritative part of my brain started shouting at me, forcing me to get my breathing under control. Slowly but steadily my breathing started to even out and I curled up on the floor, still crying and exhausted.

I lay there for three hours, not moving. Finally I dragged myself up, got ready for bed and carried the phone downstairs to put back in its holder. Rose and Emmett were curled up on the sofa together. Rose watched me silently as I put the phone down and went upstairs to bed. I didn't say a word to them. I had no words to say.

I got into bed wearily, falling asleep quickly, but the night that passed was by no means peaceful.

I dreaded the looks I would get tomorrow because I had a sinking feeling that tonight I was going to dream things that would be particularly vocal.

I was right.

I woke up early after an exceptionally violent nightmare I had no wish to recall. Often the images and sounds would leave me as soon as I woke, but the fear and pain would linger, affecting my whole day.

It was six thirty and I knew Rose and Emmett would be up. I decided I might as well face the looks now, maybe even the questions. Besides, I didn't want to stay in my room, brooding in the silence. There's the danger that could happen once they were gone, I needed to stay busy today.

I got out of bed and pulled on my robe, wrapping my body up against the chill of the morning.

_Spring cannot come too soon_, I said to myself unthinkingly. I paused as my words sunk in. _Yes, it can_, I corrected myself bitterly. I stood next to my bed where I had paused and ran a hand across my forehead and rubbed my eyes. _I don't want to think about it today, just not today._

I had my date later with Edward Cullen and I was looking forward to it, but not because I wanted to spend time with him. In fact, he was the last person I would want to go on a date with, if I ever had the inclination. No, I had thought of a way to revenge myself against him black mailing me, and to get another decent night's sleep. But I needed to know more about him first and, after overhearing Rose and Emmett's conversation last night, - _I still have no idea what to do with that -_ I knew where to get it.

I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. Emmett was sitting at the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee, reading the paper. He was still in his pyjamas, too. Rose was upstairs, obviously getting dressed, because she never lounged around in pyjamas. I think the last time I saw her in them was when I was ten and I bumped into her in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom as she was going to get a glass of water.

Emmett smiled at me over the top of the paper. "Good morning." he said softly. I nodded at him and went to get a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice. Sitting opposite him, I started my breakfast. Luckily, he was too engrossed in the paper to ask me any questions that were solely for my benefit. Or pry as I called it.

A few minutes later, Rose trotted down the stairs in a blouse and skirt. Even though she taught gym, she insisted on wearing smart clothes and changing into a tracksuit at work. I had no idea why.

She got herself a mug of coffee and put some bread in the toaster. She kissed Emmett on the temple and sat down next to him, shooting me a small smile and then started looking through the supplements for something to grab her interest.

I played around with my cereal, unsure as to how to break the silence, how to even phrase what I wanted to say.

"I have a date with Edward Cullen." _So blunt and tactless it is, Bella_. I mentally smacked my head down on the counter for my stupidity.

Emmett lowered the paper and Rose jerked her head up at me, both staring wide eyed and mouth open in shock. I would have laughed if I didn't feel so sick.

"What?" Rose was the first to come to her senses, Emmett continued to look as though he'd been tasered.

"I have a date with Edward Cullen tonight," I repeated blankly, my face giving no hint as to what I was really feeling.

"Why?"

I had no answer I wished to share with them, so I said nothing.

"Could you at least tell us _why_ you're telling us?" Emmett asked. It appeared after a brief hiatus he was now back.

"You both know him and I'd like to know more about him."

"Aren't you supposed to do that on the date with him?" Rose asked sardonically, one eyebrow raised. _Wow, Rose, didn't realize you had it in you. Well done!_ I mentally applauded her sarcastically.

"I only want the basics. How do you both know him?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"I work with him. He's a music teacher at my school," Rose replied.

_Huh, music teacher. Wonder what the parents would make of his extracurricular activities._

"But Emmett knows Jasper and I thought he was Alice's brother?" I asked, still confused over these finer details.

"Well, I met Jasper first and us four got to know each other. Then Alice mentioned her brother and Rose realized she worked with him. He had never really talked to her before," Emmett said.

"He never talked to any women. We all thought he was a chauvinist pig."

"Yeah, but then we got to know him and we know that's not the case now, don't we?" Emmett said meaningfully to his wife.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"We don't really know what's gone on in Edward's past, he's never said. All we know is whatever Alice has hinted at," Emmett replied.

"Which is?"

"You should probably let Edward tell you, if he wants you to know."

"I don't see that happening anytime soon. Plus, they're going on a date so I think Bella has a right to know."

"Know what?" I was starting to feel a little exasperated.

"All we know is that Edward's been married before, we don't know what happened to the wife, but afterwards, he travelled around Europe for years and only got back to Chicago a few months ago. In time for the beginning of the school year," Rose told me.

"He still wears his wedding ring," Emmett added.

I looked down at the counter, soaking in what I'd been told. Edward had been married, he may be a widow. Does that excuse his behaviour to me? Does that make my opportunity to get a good night's sleep less tempting? No, I decided, it doesn't. I'd continue with my plan.

As I was sitting there, time had crept on and Rose and Emmett were busy getting ready to leave and soon I was the only one in the house. Still sitting at the breakfast bar.

I came to my senses and the silence of the empty house made me feel incredibly lonely, yet I strangely didn't want to move. Scared to make a noise that would break the overwhelmingly loud silence.

I sat there for I don't know how long, lost inside my mind when the shrill of the telephone invaded my senses, startling me and breaking the spell the silence had over me. I darted to the phone and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, Bella? It's Alice Cullen." _Oh shit._

"Hello, Alice. How are you?" I asked blandly.

"I'm really good. How are you?" She chirruped in reply.

"Fine, thank you."

"Great! Listen, I heard you were going out tonight with my brother."

"Yes." _Well, you _were_ the one who gave him the idea with your stupid fucking card._

"I know I said we should go shopping Saturday, but how about we go today so you have something to wear?" she suggested, little knowing that I had no intention of that little plan of hers ever coming to fruition.

"I'm sorry. I can't, Alice. I have to work today," I lied smoothly.

"Well, I could always go and pick something up for you and we could have lunch at your house. You have to stop for lunch, don't you?"

I was in a sinking ship and going down fast. I desperately searched my head for another excuse, when I suddenly struck gold.

"Actually Alice, I don't need something to wear. Rose is lending me something and I'm actually leaving the house in a few minutes. I'll be gone most of the day."

"Oh, where are you going?"

"To do research."

"Where? Maybe I could come with you?" _Jesus. What is she, a fucking stalker?_

"It'll be really boring. I'll be busy and you'll basically be alone most of the day, so there'd be very little point," I said, hoping she'd get the picture and leave me alone.

"Well, I'm alone now and there's no one here. I don't mind being alone, but at least there'll be someone there," she said with a hint of sadness to her voice.

I realized I felt bad for her. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I didn't know how to let her down gently. I was in between a rock and a hard place and I really didn't like it. I sighed in resignation.

"How about I do some writing for a couple of hours and I meet you in Starbucks for a coffee around one? I can do research another day."

"Really, Bella? I don't want to cause you any trouble." _Yeah, I bet you don't._

"No, don't worry, you're not. I'll see you later."

"Okay, see ya. Bye, Bella!"

"Bye, Alice." I hung up the phone and went to go get dressed.

I threw my hair up in a grip, deciding I'd have a bath and do my tests later. I might even try the test with a shower, to save time.

I sat down at my desk and finished off the article I was writing yesterday, and then e-mailed it to my editor, extremely doubting the likelihood of ever seeing it in print. All the little frumpy housewives would probably have a heart attack in indignation.

I then read for a little while until I had to leave, and then I decided to walk to the Starbucks, seeing no sense in driving my truck there. I may love it irrevocably, but that didn't mean the good people of Glen Ellyn did and I was getting sick of the dirty looks.

When I arrived, Alice was already there, sitting in one of the armchairs near the window. She had a huge mug in front of her and I silently prayed it didn't contain much caffeine because as soon as she saw me, she started practically vibrating in her seat.

"Bella!" she cried. I strolled over to her.

"Hi, Alice. I'm just going to go get a drink."

"Okay! I'll be here," she said brightly. I took my purse out and set my bag down on the seat opposite hers, before walking over to the till and ordering a latte. The girl baffled me with a list of changes and additions I could make to my drink. I looked at her calmly, but my inner facial expression was one of horror. "No, I'll just take the latte. Thank you," I serenely replied. _I just want a god damn coffee._

I returned to Alice and sat down. She looked at me with pure joy, as though I'd just given her the secret to the holy grail. I looked at her as I look at everyone, blank and vacant. _Except Edward_,a little voice told me that I immediately ignored.

"So did you get much writing done?" she asked.

"A bit."

"What did you write?"

"I wrote an article for my editor to consider for the magazine."

"Oooh, do you think it'll get published?"

"No, not really."

"Why not?" she asked, a frown marring her perfect little face.

"Because it will end up insulting 95% of the readership, then no one will ever read the magazine again and I'll get fucking fired." _Oh dear God, no. _All the blood drained from my face as I realized I'd said that out loud. Alice just laughed a high tinkering laugh.

"Why did you write it then?"

"Umm, I suppose I just couldn't think of anything else and let my frustrations get the better of me. They don't publish many of my articles anyway, so it doesn't really matter what I write as long as I write something." _Where is all this coming from? Where the fuck is my façade? I'm not angry or anything. I've felt fine, well not fine, but normal all day. What is happening to me?_

Alice misinterpreted the frown on my face, which had inexplicably gotten there, as lack of confidence in my writing.

"Oh, don't say that," she soothed. "I'm sure you're a brilliant writer. It's still early on in your career, it'll get better."

I nodded and looked down at my coffee, not trusting my face or my voice anymore.

"I thought Rosalie said you wrote romance novels, though?" Alice asked. I answered, still looking down and trying my best to keep my voice steady.

"She did, but it's only because she doesn't like what I write for money, and she doesn't know what I actually write."

"What is it that you write?"

"I make my living writing horoscopes that I make up." She gave an indelicate snort and I found myself looking up at her, grinning. "I actually write novels that, well I don't really know how to describe them."

"How many have you written?"

"I'm writing my fourth."

"Four novels?" she squeaked. I nodded.

"Well, what are they about?" I hesitated. I'd revealed more to her in the last five minutes than I'd revealed to Rose in, well, definitely in the past year, but in some ways, ever. I expected fear; I expected an ache in the middle of my chest for exposing my vulnerability. But I didn't feel it. I felt content, I felt almost... happy. Here, sitting in Starbucks with Alice Cullen, was the happiest I'd felt in a long time. It reminded me of a time when I was blissfully happy.

And that was when the pain started. The unintentional reminder I'd given myself, comparing my feelings now to a time gone by, which exposed the wounds I thought were hidden. A searing pain in the centre of my chest spread out and I felt an ache in all of limbs. Tears pricked in my eyes and I instantly felt weak. Alice noticed my change in expression and flew to my side.

"It's okay, Bella, you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry for prying." I shook my head, the movement causing the tears to spill out of my eyes and run down my face. I managed to choke out, "Alice, do you think you could take me home?"

"Of course, Bella." I shakily stood up and wrapped my jacket tighter around my body. Alice picked up my bag and flitted ahead of me, opening the door for me. I walked out into the chill day and relished the feel of the wind on my tear stained face. A small touch on my elbow brought me back and I followed Alice to her car, a yellow porsche. A sob choked in my throat as my treacherous mind told me who would have loved to have the chance to ride in it and drive it themselves.

I got in the passenger seat and Alice passed me my bag. I cradled it on my lap as I bowed my head and allowed the tears to stream down my face.

"I'm sorry, Alice. What must you think of me?"

"It's okay, Bella. It's... It's pretty clear you're still recovering from something."

Recovering? Is that what I was doing? I'd never thought recovery an option; I'd never considered myself worth recovering. I didn't deserve it.

Before I knew it, I was back home and Alice was opening the car door for me. I climbed out awkwardly and walked to the door, Alice following. I let us in and went to collapse on the couch. Alice sat next to me, looking at me timidly.

"It's okay, Alice, you can go. I'll be alright now. I'm sorry I ruined lunch."

"No, Bella, you didn't ruin lunch, and I want to stay. I think you need someone here." I turned and looked at her. Her expression was worried but firm.

"I don't need anyone," I told her. Not coldly or harshly, like I would have before. But sadly.

"Oh Bella, everyone needs someone." I broke down again at her words. She put her little arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder as the sobs tremored through my body.

"I'm not going anywhere until Rose or Emmett gets home," she promised. I turned my head a little to look down at her and realized I felt glad.

**A/N: Please don't hate me for no date, it's up next. I just needed to get these scenes out first.**

**Please review, your opinions mean so much to me.  
**


	6. It Will All End In Tears

**A/N: Okay, so last chapter. Yeah, hated it, and have a feeling you guys did too as you were very quiet. Seriously if you don't like something tell me! I'm a big girl I can take it!**

**Anyway a big huge bucketful of love and thanks to edwardzukorocks who has helped pull my act together to give you this chapter, I am so humbled that she's helped me and I hope my constant worry filled e mails won't make her regret getting in contact with me. Her story Creature of Habit is amazing and if you haven't read it then go do it now! But much like Resident Geek if you haven't then I'm frickin' shocked.**

**Thank you cdunbar for being so great and supportive especially after I sent you like 3 different versions of this chapter then told you to ignore them and sent you the real one. I do not deserve you!**

**JeNnNn, as always love your craziness and hate that you're back in Australia and our e mailing schedule has gone to the dogs.**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and Sylvia Plath owns Lady Lazarus**

6. It Will All End In Tears

"_Out of the ash_

_I rise with my red hair_

_And I eat men like air"_

_Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath_

Alice kept her promise. Four hours later, Rose came home to see Alice curled up on the sofa with her arms around me as I stared blankly at the wall.

"Hi, Alice. What's going on?" Rose asked curiously as she walked cautiously up to us.

Alice lifted her head and moved back, taking her arms off of me to, instead, take one of my hands lying limply on my lap into hers. She looked at me questioningly, uncertain as to what to say. A part of me glowed with warmth for this strange little faery who was starting to show such loyalty to me, and I felt the same for her. I had never connected to women well, I had very few female friends, but I felt a kinship for Alice I'd never felt before. I had completely fallen apart in front of her and she had asked me no questions, she just let me be. She knew I would talk when I wanted to.

So I lifted my eyes wearily to Rose and said nothing. I turned to Alice, squeezed her hand and whispered, "I'll be okay now. Thank you."

She nodded and kissed me on the cheek. She reached for her purse and pulled out a business card. "This has my home number and cell, call me whenever you need to talk. Or even if you don't, and you just need someone around."

"Okay, Alice," I answered in that same quiet voice. I refused to let myself look at Rose. Would she be jealous I accepted the help and support of a woman I had only met a couple of days ago, but continued to spurn my own sister? Or would she be happy, thinking it didn't matter whose help I accepted, as long as it was someone's?

Alice got up stiffly and put her purse on her shoulder. I turned my head back to face the front and heard a short murmured conversation between Rose and Alice, a promise to call me tomorrow and the door closing.

The spell that was over me whilst I was in Alice's presence lifted and my façade snapped back in place as though nothing had happened. I felt the dip in the sofa cushions as Rose sat down next to me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her hand hover, reaching out to touch my shoulder before pulling back out of sight.

I stood up and went upstairs without a word; I heard a sigh behind me as I walked up the stairs.

But I was cold and robotic once more. I had to be. I refused to let the events of the afternoon wear on me. I would go ahead with my plan; Operation Piss Off Edward So He Shouts At Me And I Can Shout Back And Then Get A Good Night's Sleep Because My Mind Is Fucked Up When It Comes To Him.

_I need to think up a better name. _

Once I reached my room, I grabbed my towel and wash bag, and took a shower instead of a bath, but still forced myself to stand under hot scalding water.

A strange thing happened whilst I stood under the burning water. When I first got in my façade was impeccably secure, the temperature didn't register. The numbness with which I had lived for so long was almost comforting. However, my mind started to drift, pondering the possible outcomes of tonight. Best case scenario was I angered him so much he stormed out five minutes after sitting down. Worst case was he started laughing at me again, but I thought he would have to be drunk for that to happen and there was no way I would let that occur. The guy had serious boundary issues when he was drunk.

Then my mind wandered over to the thought of Alice calling me tomorrow as I stood under the scalding water. Undoubtedly she would call Edward, wanting to know the details of our date, and if all went to plan he would tell her I was a vindictive evil bitch who should burn in hell. The thought of Alice being upset with me made me stop for a moment. Guilt welled up inside me and I started to gasp in pain as the searing heat of the water registered with me. I swiftly turned down the temperature and pushed any thoughts of Alice from my mind. Instead, I began to count the glossy white wall tiles in front of me. I stood under the water, waiting for the guilt to leave as I stood counting white tiles over and over again, and when I felt sufficiently hardened, I violently turned the temperature as cold as it could go and barely flinched when it hit my body. Because I was as just as cold now.

Once I was out of my shower, I repeated the tests in front of my mirror using the bull clips, not leaving them clamped on my skin long enough to bruise. I'd learnt my lesson about leaving marks, not that anyone would be seeing the backs of my knees anytime soon.

I got dressed into the same outfit I wore to Rose and Emmett's party, because if Edward was too drunk to remember me I saw no harm in recycling the outfit. Besides, I was hoping my lack of making an effort would show how pissed off I was about the bribery. And if what I looked like didn't do the trick, I was pretty sure the bitchiness would.

There was a knock on my door as I was braiding my hair into a french plait, I managed to capture all my hair in one hand and unlock the door with the other. Rosalie hesitantly looked around the door at me while I returned to looking in the mirror to finish plaiting my hair. She walked into my room and stood behind me.

"Here, let me do that. I can do it tighter," Rose offered. I paused and looked at her in the mirror.

"It's okay, I can do it." I resumed plaiting. She grimaced and looked down at the floor. I fought a sigh, really not wanting a repeat pep talk she gave me the night of the party. Whereas then, it had been her desire for me to attract any man long enough to bat my eyelashes, show my cleavage (what little I had, anyway) and secure his phone number, if not actually achieve screwing him. Now it would be stepped up. Lord knows what she expected of me tonight. I wouldn't be surprised if she expected me to jump him as soon as he opened the door. My sister's belief that all I needed was some hot wild monkey sex to sort me out completely baffled me. And they let her teach little children.

"So, what time is Edward getting here? Alice mentioned the date was tonight." _Oh God, here we go._

"Seven." I looked steadily at my reflection as I carried on plaiting.

"Where are you going?" Her light tone sounded forced.

"I don't know." She nodded, realizing I wouldn't be helping her ease into what she wanted to say. She'd have to do it on her own. She sighed in defeat.

"I wish you'd talk to _me_." _O-ookay, maybe I was wrong. _

I just carried on plaiting, nearly at the end. My arms were starting to ache and I wondered again why I just didn't get it all cut off. _Oh yeah, that's right, it frizzes up into an afro if it's above shoulder length._ Rose got the perfect hair, I got poodle hair.

"Bella, stop ignoring me!" Rose pleaded, which made my eyes shoot up to find hers in the mirror. Rose never begged.

"I'm not ignoring you, I just don't know what you want me to say," I calmly replied as I pulled the hairband off my wrist and tied the end of my plait with it.

"I want you to say a lot of things. The beginning would be a good place to start," she snapped in reply.

The beginning. I didn't know where the beginning was anymore. How could I tell her when I didn't know myself? I shook my head and turned toward my dresser, tidying up the surface as though by doing so would tidy up me.

"Bella, I think-" She was cut off by the door opening and closing. Emmett was home and she had another ally. She couldn't keep the triumphant look off her face. I checked the clock, noting that I had half an hour before Edward would arrive, if he was on time. I prayed to God he was the punctual type. I turned around to face Rosalie and held up my hand as she opened her mouth to speak. I knew what she was about to suggest, I'd tried to forget what I'd overheard between her and Emmett, but now, nearly faced with the suggestion of therapy about to burst out her mouth, I knew how I felt about the whole situation. Fucking pissed.

"I don't talk to _you _because there's never much talking involved. If I ever want to be talked _at _I'll come to you, Rose, don't worry." I was proud I said all that with my façade still firmly in place. Her mouth closed with a snap and I could feel the fury brewing behind her eyes. Emmett calling her name from downstairs stopped her from launching into a tirade of how awful and ungrateful I was to her whilst all she wanted is what was best for me. Instead she merely spat, "Be careful tonight, we wouldn't want your mask to crack."

She stomped out of my room and slammed the door behind her. I slipped on a pair of shoes and sat down on my bed with the book I had been reading earlier.

I felt no nerves, no anticipation, I didn't even feel hope. There was no romance for me in this evening. I was on a mission and that was all that mattered. For a reason which I couldn't fathom Edward brought out the anger in me so easily. And my layers of protection, my impermeable façade simply disappeared. Yet it didn't make me feel vulnerable or scared. It felt right, and the release was so amazing that my sleep became deep and soothing. I would wake up feeling healthy and rested. But as soon as he was gone, and my anger with him, my mask was back and as impenetrable as ever. _Except around Alice._

At seven o'clock I grabbed my coat and purse, and then went downstairs to sit on the sofa and wait. Emmett and Rosalie were in the kitchen cooking. Rosalie was ignoring me but Emmett called out to me cheerily, "Hey Bella, excited about your date?" _Ecstatic. _I twisted in my seat and shrugged at him.

"Oh, I'm sure it's just nerves." _Yeah right, I'm so worried he won't like me that we won't have that perfect kiss goodnight. _I somehow managed to fight down a snort. I turned back to face forward, my back to Emmett. A few minutes of silence on my part and the low sizzle of cooking coming from the kitchen later, the doorbell chime, announcing Edward's arrival. I slowly stood up, gathered my coat and purse and walked to the door. I could see Emmett standing by the breakfast counter looking on anxiously, the look of hope and excitement on his face made me think of Alice in Starbucks earlier when she saw me walk in. I was starting to hate the sight of hope dying in people's eyes.

I opened the door and there stood Edward Cullen in all his bribing, moody glory. If I was looking less than enthusiastic for our date, he was looking positively desolate. _What the hell? He was the one who asked _me_ out! Although, if he's already in a bad mood it shouldn't be too hard to push him over the edge, _I gleefully thought.

"Hello," he said. I nodded in reply. My façade was up and it was odd to think that soon I wouldn't actually need it. That I was actively going to decide to lower it. The thought was unsettling but I needed to do this. Really all I was doing was exchanging masks.

"Hey, Edward!" I heard Emmett say behind me, making me turn around. His tone was clearly false because, as I suspected, the hope in his eyes had indeed died.

"Hi, Emmett," Edward quietly replied, nodding at him before returning his stare to me.

"I'll see you later," I said to Emmett. Rose was too angry with me to say goodbye.

"Yeah, take as long as you want, Bells," Emmett replied. _Not too long hopefully. There's a film on at eight I wouldn't mind watching._

I made to walk out the door but Edward didn't move back. Instead, he lifted up a bunch of roses, red. I looked at them incredulously and tried not to throw up.

"These are for you." His deep voice sounded cold and unwelcoming.

"Thank you?" He was the strangest man I had ever met. I took them from him and checked to see if there was a card this time.

"It wasn't Alice's idea."

"Oh." Emmett came forward and stood at my side.

"Here, Bella, let me take those and put them in some water, you get going," he said.

"Okay. Thank you, Emmett." I handed the flowers to Emmett, praying he wouldn't go and put them in my room. I wasn't really a fan of flowers, and red roses? Wow, _original_. At least there wasn't a token spray of gypsophilia. God, I fucking hated those flowers.

I put on my coat and this time Edward took the hint, stepping to the side so I could walk out the door. Once the door was shut behind me I turned to him and he strode off down the steps to his wimpy car. _Who buys a Volvo hatchback? _He walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for me, and I got in silently. He walked around to his side, got in, and without a word or a look to me started the engine and we drove off.

The journey was silent and the atmosphere tense. To say anything felt awkward and wrong, no matter how eager I was to put my plot into action. Instead I covertly looked at Edward out of the corner of my eye. I hadn't really had a chance to properly study him, the only one time I had, my brain had been fuzzy and scrambled.

He looked... old. He wasn't wrinkled and he didn't have any grey hairs but there was an air of antiquity around him. I guessed he was in his mid to late thirties but would look younger if his face wasn't set into a permanent scowl and complete with furrowed brow. He was wearing dark blue slacks and a white shirt underneath a black suede jacket, but I couldn't help feeling tweeds and corduroy would suit him better. Complete with leather elbow patches and a plaid shirt. He wore thin silver framed glasses for driving and his hair was lying over his forehead haphazardly, sticking up towards the back. His posture was stiff and his limbs were poking out awkwardly. I knew he was tall but in the confined space of the car the differences in our sizes were much more pronounced. When he reached down to change gears, my eyes followed the movement. There was something leonine in it, his gangliness only due to lack of space and possibly the palpable tension in the car. His fingers were long and tapered; I saw the wedding band on his ring finger and wondered about his wife. What had happened to her? Edward cleared his throat, drawing me out of my thoughts. He was looking at me, a sullen look on his face and his dark green eyes glowing. I realized he'd seen me looking at his wedding ring, so I blankly looked back at him and he frowned slightly, one of his eyebrows quirked in surprise. If he was expecting me to ask questions about his past, he'd brought the wrong girl out. I didn't care if he was Bluebeard himself and she was locked in a room somewhere with the corpses of her predecessors. I was a woman on a mission and once we were at the restaurant and out of the god awful pressure cooker that was this car, Operation Piss Off Edward was go. _Much better title. Short and simple._

I turned my head to look out the passenger window and five minutes later we drew up at a restaurant. Once Edward parked, I shot out of the car. As I turned back to close the door I saw Edward looking at me, angry again. For what I was sure was the hundredth time tonight, I wondered why he asked me out if everything I did angered him. Not that I was complaining because it made my job so much easier, but still, what was in it for him?

He walked up onto the pavement outside the restaurant and I followed him. There were two doors to the restaurant and I automatically pushed the left one open, not realizing Edward had held the right one open for me. He again frowned and I merely shrugged. The hostess stepped forward and sized the pair of us up, her eyes passed quickly over me considering I'd mastered the art of blending into the wallpaper for most of my life. When she took in Edward they widened slightly, whether because she found him attractive or terrifying I wasn't sure. When I turned to look at him and found him examining me with a furious intensity, I realized it could be either. Whilst I could admit he was attractive looking, at this moment he looked chillingly frightening, and if I had any sense of self preservation left in me I would have run away screaming. When I looked back at the hostess, she was looking at me with pity in her eyes. Yep, all that anger was definitely directed at me.

"Table for two?" the hostess asked me in a quiet, shaky voice.

"Yes, I made a reservation under the name Cullen," Edward rumbled in response. _My god, the man is so pissed he can't talk anymore, only growl._

She led us over to a table for two in the middle of the restaurant. She glanced at me, obviously wanting to keep me out in the open just in case he tried to kill me halfway through dinner. He shook his head at her and asked for a booth near the back, where no one would be able to hear me scream. She looked at me questioningly and I nodded. I wasn't afraid of him. I'd already kneed him in the manly parts once, I could do it again.

She led us over to a table more suited to Sullen Cullen. I started to take of my jacket when I was startled by a sudden warmth on my hands. Edward had nimbly slid his hands underneath mine and stripped the jacket off my shoulders. I couldn't help but notice he was looking at me rather smugly. He placed it on the back of my chair, took of his own jacket and sat down. The hostess handed us menus and told us a waitress would be out shortly to take our drink order. I thanked her warmly, allowing my façade to take a break so I could start putting my plan into effect. Plus, she'd seemed so concerned about my safety, I kind of felt like I owed her a little civility. I opened the menu and started to read it when Edward's voice interrupted me.

"I'm sorry, I should have checked. Do you like Italian food?" he asked, his tone slightly less angry but still gruff. I nodded and went back to reading the menu. I wanted to start off slow, just appear inattentive and rude and then slide into being a heartless witch.

"Hello, my name's Amy and I will be serving you tonight. What would you like to drink?" I looked up to see a smiling, chirpy young girl looking from me to Edward. Seeming oblivious to the hostility in Edward's face that was, quite obvious to the hostess, directed at me, I guessed that Amy was one of life's beige people, who only noticed something if someone told you to. While this was all very well when they was sixteen and working as a waitress for some extra money, I always wondered how they fared once they were adults and at college or starting their careers. Opinions were always very important things to have and sadly for them, mandatory.

I opened my mouth to order but Edward beat me to it and ordered a bottle of wine with a name I didn't recognize. The girl wrote down the order, smiled brightly and skipped off into the sunset. I, however, turned to face Edward and glared. _Oh, he so deserves what's coming to him now. _He deserved it even more when I saw he was fucking smirking at me.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but women are actually capable of ordering for themselves. We aren't just walking vaginas," I said darkly.

"I'm aware, you just don't always have good taste," he calmly replied.

I nearly spat at him,

"And you do?"

"Yes, I've always been told I have impeccable taste. And that I'm always right."

"My god, what poor deluded soul told you that?"

He merely glared at me in reply, ran his hand through his hair, cleared his throat angrily and resumed looking at the menu. The tension returned but I refused to be beaten by it.

"You're very arrogant, aren't you?" I bluntly asked. The atmosphere shattered like a pane of glass and his head shot up in surprise. His expression a mix of affront and shock.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" His voice was dark and rough.

"Calm down, it was just an observation. The truth hurts but you can't get angry at it."

"What makes you think it's the truth?"

"You just said that you're always right. How is that _not_ one of the most arrogant things in the world to say?" I calmly pointed out.

"You said it yourself, it was just an observation. The truth hurts, you can't get angry at it." _Shit._

"It's still arrogant," I grumbled. He just did that stupid smirk again and I found myself hating him a little more.

Amy came back with a bottle of red wine and opened it. She did the thing of pouring a little into a glass and offered it to Edward. He pompously tasted it before nodding his approval graciously and she filled our glasses.

"Are you ready to order now?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied and ordered the seafood risotto and a glass of the house white. Her face stayed the same as I ordered another drink and I fought every urge in my body not to look at Edward, because if he looked anywhere near as pissed off as I hoped he looked, I'm pretty sure I'd wet myself laughing. I just folded up the menu, handed it to Amy and looked down at the tablecloth, examining the pattern. However, when Edward made his order, I couldn't help but notice it sounded rather strangled.

"What the fuck was that about?" Edward hissed.

I looked up and saw Edward leaning toward me, his face purple with rage. I started to wonder whether I should ask if there was a history of heart problems in his family.

"I don't like red wine and it wouldn't have gone with what I ordered anyway," I calmly replied. He scowled at me.

"If you tried the wine, you just might like it, and I went with something neutral that would fit whatever you ordered."

"No, thank you, I'll wait for the house white." A look of pain flashed across his face as I said house white and I fought back a snicker. He pushed my glass toward me.

"Try it," he said in a low voice.

"No, thank you," I uttered forcefully. I pushed the glass back toward him.

"_Do it_," he ordered, pushing the glass back to me.

"_No_." I pushed it away again. However, he hadn't taken his hand away and as our skin met, I felt a blistering heat and I jerked my hand back in surprise. But as he had been pushing against my opposing force, the sudden absence of my hand made the glass tip over, staining the tablecloth and splashing onto me. I slid my chair back and grabbed a napkin to begin mopping myself up. I didn't really care that I had wine on me, and I was wearing black, so it wasn't as if it was noticeable, but this happily had played right into my plan.

"Look what you did! This is what happens when you don't let women order what they want," I angrily hissed at him.

"I'm sorry, let me get another napkin." He looked around for one at another table hastily.

"No, thank you, you've done quite enough," I replied sharply.

"Please, Bella, it was just an accident. And you're wearing black so it's not as if anyone can see." His forehead lined with a pleading look on his face.

"This shirt is Chanel!" I plucked at the material as I lied to him. It was actually something cheap I'd picked up from J C Penney during one of their many sales.

"I'm so sorry. I'll pay for the dry cleaning, I'll buy you a new one."

"It was vintage!" I shrieked dramatically.

"Oh god!" came his agonized reply, his hand covering his eyes. I tried not to laugh at his reaction. W_hat a girl._

"Is this what you normally do on dates! Throw drinks at people!" I gestured toward him with my hand.

"I didn't throw a drink at you!" His eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"You just as well might have!"

"Calm down, you're making a scene!" he begged. He clenched his fists on the table, leant forward and lowered his voice.

I looked around me and sure enough people were staring at us like we were a side show to their dinner. The hostess was looking at me in terror with a restraining hand on Amy's shoulder, who was carrying our order.

"Good," I said in a low voice.

"What?" he said in disbelief, leaning back slightly.

"Because then I have witnesses to how much of an asshole you are. I'm pretty sure I have the hostess on my side and, if push comes to shove, Amy shouldn't be too difficult," I rambled.

"What the hell are you talking about?" His forehead was creased in confusion.

"Ever since I first met you, I have not found anything about you to induce me to like you. You came around my house to offer an apology you didn't mean, bring flowers you didn't buy with a card you didn't write, and you then proceeded to blackmail me into going out to dinner with you." I paused for breath.

"You then turn up, ten minutes late, with a contrived bunch of roses and looked at me like I came into your house on Christmas morning and shot your dog." He just sat there looking at me in horror.

"So far on this 'date', you have started no real conversation, ordered for me, insulted me and finally poured red wine down my very expensive Chanel shirt. You, Edward Cullen, are an asshole," I triumphantly finished, pointing at him. _Now for the fireworks. _

I wasn't disappointed. The look of horror vanished, replaced by cold fury and when he spoke, his voice was harsh and cold.

"I have done many things in my life that I regret. Taking you to dinner has quickly become one of them. I will not sit here and be insulted by you repeatedly. I cannot continue to apologize when you refuse to accept it and I grow to not mean it." His voice was dangerously quiet.

He stood up and put on his jacket. He fished some money out of his wallet and stood to stand by the front of the table.

"I think we should end this evening now before either of us says or does something we regret," he added, looking down his nose at me sternly.

I sat there, my mouth open in shock at how easily he'd backed down. However, for once, I was in complete agreement with him and swiftly stood up, put on my own jacket and placed a couple of bills on the table.

"That isn't necessary," he said, holding a hand out, his palm facing me.

"Yes, it is," I merely replied.

I turned away from the table and walked out the restaurant, barely conscious of heads turning in my wake, but catching the small smile from the hostess, which I returned warmly.

I walked out the restaurant doors and stood there for a moment. My skin had become heated as I argued with Edward, so I let the cool breeze drift across my hot cheeks and closed my eyes to allow the sensation to heighten. I let out a contented sigh, feeling myself grow calm and slightly sleepy. A cleared throat brought me back and I opened my eyes. Edward was standing in front of me; his body angled away, his head toward me. But his eyes… Once again I saw that glowing intensity I was beginning to understand meant he was baffled and curious about something. At the moment, it was me. I didn't care if he thought I was strange, I always liked the simple pleasures in life and now the simple pleasures were all I had a right to enjoy. But I took his hint and started walking toward his car, following him. I should have rung for a cab but I could tell it would anger Edward more, and he would only manage to get his way somehow. He reached the car before me and swiftly opened the passenger door for me. At least he didn't smirk. I begrudgingly got in, positive my distaste for all these gentlemanly theatrics was written on my face.

He went round to his side and nimbly slid in. Once the door was closed and we were both encased in our own personal bubble, that awful tension came back and I almost sighed in disappointment. This time I made a point of turning my body away from him, shifting slightly in my seat, to look out the window and not watch him out the corner of my eye. _Not that I _want_ to watch him._

He switched the radio on and soothing classical music drifted out. It was 'Casta Diva' and Maria Callas was singing. I'd always liked it because it reminded me of a sitting on a fallen tree trunk, watching the waves at First Beach crashing against the shore on a calm day. My hands fidgeted in my lap and I held my purse tighter against my stomach, unwilling to let my thoughts wander into more dangerous territory. Edward changed the station and jazz filled the silence. This I was more comfortable with, as I detested it. There was nothing to fear with jazz. My hands relaxed and I felt my shoulders slump, I allowed my head to roll over and rest against the cold window pane. I spent the rest of the journey with my eyes half closed, fighting the urge to slip into a peaceful slumber.

We finally reached my home after what seemed like hours of uncomfortable, strained tension, unsuccessfully broken by jazz music. Edward pulled up but kept the engine running as I got out slowly and tiredly. Once out the car, I murmured a quiet thank you to Edward, then hastily closed the door before I could hear his reply.

I practically ran into the house, let myself in and went upstairs to my room. I didn't even look in the direction of the sofa to see Emmett and Rosalie's expressions, moving too fast for them to have a chance to say anything.

Once I was in my room, I locked the door and shed my clothes, pulling on my pyjamas.

I threw myself on my bed, feeling exhausted, not even having the energy to get under the covers. I closed my eyes and thought about today. It was one of the most emotional days I'd had in a very long time, but something told me this would be happening a lot more often. If I wanted Alice in my life, and I did, I would have to make myself somewhat more emotionally available. But in such a way that didn't mean breaking down crying every second.

The strangest part of my day was my date with Edward, though. I turned it over and over in my mind as I let sleep take me, praying for a peaceful night. One thing in particular sounded in my head, the one time the silence was broken in the car on the way home. Edward quietly saying sorry as we stopped at some traffic light, waiting for them to turn green, and me nodding as they did.

For a reason I couldn't explain, a lone tear slid out from under my eye and down my cheek before I crossed the brink into unconsciousness.

**A/N: I really hope you liked it, a lot went into this chapter, I'm talking blood sweat and tears here. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.**


	7. Remember How It Was To Be Human?

**A/N: Hope you like this but as it's very character development based I understand if you don't feel like reviewing. Although there's lots of foreshadowing and hints in this chapter.**

**I am currently writing an EPOV which I will post sometime next week probably. It will be under the story title The North Wind and the Sun so put me on author alert if you want to read it. I will be doing several EPOV one shots of key scenes. It won't be The Tortoise and the Hare from Edward's point of view straight chapter for chapter. I warn you now Edward is not how he appears through Bella's eyes, she has a whole other side to him to discover yet which you will see in his POV.**

**As always much love and thanks to cdunbar my beta, and edwardzukorocks. They put up with my obsessive crap when they should tell me to go away.**

**JeNnNn- thanks also, bet you're glad you're on the other side of the world away from my craziness!**

**justjennie- thanks for keeping me laughing over your PMs! And for being so loyal lol! Hope you enjoy Alice in this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and Procul Harum own 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' (beautiful song).  
**

7. Remember How It Was To Be Human?

_'And although my eyes were open _

_They might just as well've been closed."_

_A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procul Harum_

I woke just before dawn; I'd slept like the dead until the frosty air from the drop in temperature outside woke me. Freezing, I climbed under the covers, wrapping myself up in them so tightly I was cocooned within them. Burying my head back into my pillow, I drifted off into sleep again.

This time my sleep was much shallower. Images flitted across my mind, a bloodstain on carpet, followed by a bloodstain on cement. The pictures repeated themselves, over and over until it was impossible to say which was which. They'd become one and the same. I could hear the beeping of machines speeding up and slowing down as the bloodstains changed to a rare sunny day, with greenery and gravestones. A day for me to say goodbye, but leaving before I could. The pictures came faster and faster, the beeping louder and louder. And then the sound of waves crashing in the midst of a storm in the background. I could hear screaming, the sound tore at my heart it sounded so desperate. I tried to lift my arms, to find the person and comfort them. Anything to make that horrible noise stop. But my arms were too heavy. They felt weighed down. I struggled against whatever was holding me.

"Bella, ssh, ssh, it's okay. It's okay, it was just a dream. Please stop crying. It's okay."

A man's voice startled me and for a split second before I opened my eyes I thought it was _him_. But I was wrong.

Emmett was sitting on my bed holding my arms down, looking at me with worry. He gently released my arms and I sat up, scooting back to lean against the headboard while still looking at him. He reached out and wiped my cheek. I realized it was wet and my eyes felt heavy and bleary. I must have been crying for awhile.

"Are you okay, Bells?" he asked me quietly. I wanted to say no. I wanted to just break down and cry until no water was left in my body, then I could shrivel up and die because that's what I deserved. I nodded instead.

"It's early. You can go back to sleep if you want. I've got to get ready for work," Emmett said, eyeing my alarm clock which showed it was nearly quarter past six. I didn't think sleep would be a possibility now, and frankly I didn't want to try.

"No it's okay, I'll get up now. I'm sorry I woke you," I answered, my voice sounded raspy. I tried clearing my throat but it hurt.

"It's okay, Bella, I would have left you like usual, but you sounded pretty bad." Emmett looked down at my bed nervously.

I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Did I? Worse than normal?"

Emmett looked up at me, his eyes sad. "Yeah." His voice sounded hushed. Suddenly he threw himself at me, his arms around my shoulders, hugging me tightly to him. "Bella, you know I love you. You're my little sister. If you ever need to talk, or even if you just need a hug, I will always be here for you. Know that, Bella, I'm _always_ here for you," he said meaningfully into my hair.

Emmett's words touched me. This was a side Emmett only showed to those he cared about deeply. To others he was big and loud, they didn't know how quiet and gentle he could be. I put my arms around him and hugged him back. I loved him and I didn't deserve him, but it wasn't his fault. I tucked my head into his shoulder and sighed. I'd forgotten how nice it felt to be held. Emmett stroked my back and I sank into him. My demeanour was usually so unwelcoming that people rarely touched me; I hadn't been hugged in months. In fact Alice was the first to show me any physical affection in a long time when she put her arm around me yesterday.

Emmett holding me like this made me feel warm and protected. It reminded me of the bear hugs Charlie used to give me when I was little. His awkwardness was not so prevalent then. I felt tears prick my eyes, the raw hole in the middle of my body stung when it remembered another set of arms around me, with an entirely different meaning behind them. I extricated myself from Emmett's embrace before my tears had a chance to fall. Turning my head away from him and getting out of bed, I walked to my dresser to pull out some socks and then suddenly turned my head sharply. A flash of blonde hair had caught my eye but when I turned to the doorway nothing was there. I heard Emmett stand up and walk toward the door. "I guess I'll see you downstairs then, Bella." I nodded into my open drawer as I rooted around for a pair of thick socks. Hearing my door gently close, I pulled out the socks I'd spotted several seconds before. I pulled them on and ran a brush through my hair and then walked lazily downstairs, my body groggy from my disturbed sleep.

Once downstairs in the kitchen, I made myself a coffee and sat at the breakfast bar to drink it. While listening to the muffled sounds of Emmett upstairs talking to Rose as they got ready, I stared at the work surface, seeing my haunted reflection in the glossy smooth marble white. I put my head in my hands, closed my eyes and propped my elbows on the top. I wanted to sleep again but knew I'd get no rest from it. I'd wake up crying and more exhausted than before. I sighed, slumping my shoulders.

_At least the first half of my sleep was peaceful._

It was getting harder and harder to appreciate the little things. I took my hands away from my face and picked up my mug. After I took a sip and set it down again, I was startled by what I'd picked out. In my early morning haze I had just picked out the first mug my hand met when I opened the cupboard. Now I registered which one it was and I let out a quiet bitter laugh.

It was a plain white ceramic mug but written in a large black font was the quote 'Ever feel like you've been cheated?' It was what Johnny Rotten had said right before The Sex Pistols walked off the stage after giving something like a ten minute performance at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco.

_Oh the irony._

I thought back to the previous night. It seems Operation Piss Off Edward didn't go quite to plan. My goal was to have a repeat of that beautiful night's sleep the night of the party, but sadly I only got half a night. Yes, I definitely felt like I'd been cheated. I resolved, therefore, that the next time I saw him I would just have to try harder. Last night hadn't matched the anger at the party. I needed to somehow get him that riled up again.

I heard Rose gliding her way down the stairs, bringing me out of my thoughts. As she lithely walked into the kitchen I looked at her out the corner of my eye. I knew she'd been at my bedroom door this morning and wondered if she was going to say anything. Instead she poured herself some coffee and leant against the counter drinking it, so far not looking at me. There was a strong possibility she was still mad at me. Rose was known for her grudges. Once, she ignored me for a week because I didn't do something she wanted me to do, but I forgot exactly what it had been.

I decided if Rose was going to be immature all her life, I wasn't going to stop her. I gulped down the last of my coffee, the burn of the hot liquid shooting down my throat not registering with me at all. I stood up and walked over the sink, swiftly washed up my mug and set it down on the draining board. I then turned to leave the kitchen and go back upstairs. "How did your date go?" Rose asked behind me. I paused and half turned toward her.

"It was fine."

I turned back and hastily walked out of the kitchen, through the living room and up to my room.

An hour later both Emmett and Rosalie left for work. I then rushed through my bath, using ice for the cold part of the test. Once out I repeated the bull clip test, this time switching to my upper arms since the back of my knees were too bruised. My brain was as unreachable as ever, the pain I should have felt not even a blip on my radar. I pulled on clean underwear, jeans, an old band t-shirt with Jimi Hendrix on it that I loved, and a sweater to go over the top.

Sitting down at my desk and turning on my laptop, I worked for a couple of hours, losing myself in my article. Well, as lost as you can get in a column about the proper way to administer a breast exam on yourself. _When am I going to get paid to actually write something I want to? I get it that breast exams are important, but why the hell do I have to write a fucking column on one?_

This was one of the rare articles my editor actually asked me to write. I had found the e-mail about it yesterday. Soon I'd have to go into the office, make my cursory appearance I made every few weeks, just to prove I actually existed. My editor was very lax with me. I had only gotten the job because one of my professors had pulled a few strings when my career direction altered drastically not long after I graduated, and I rang her asking if she knew of any jobs going in Chicago. The magazine didn't need me for much, just to lie my way through the horoscopes and maybe a filler article every now and then. At first I didn't care, but recently I'd found myself getting restless and incredibly bored. I wouldn't be surprised if my brain was so unresponsive because the lack of intellectual stimulus was slowly killing it. If so, pain response apparently went first.

The doorbell rang at about half ten. I saved the document and went downstairs. I unlocked the door and pulled it open to reveal Alice standing there, looking at me timidly and smiling cautiously as though she was trying to coax a very shy animal to not run from her in terror.

"I thought you said you were going to ring me today?" I asked bluntly, the shock of her being there throwing me off guard.

"I know, but. Well, I spoke to Edward," she answered, looking at me nervously, gauging my reaction.

"Oh," I said softly. I threw the door open wider and stepped to the side. "You better come in then."

She thanked me quietly and I closed the door after her, walking to the kitchen and she followed. She set her purse down on the breakfast bar and perched on a stool.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked, feeling slightly awkward at playing hostess.

"Sure, what herbal tea do you have?"

"Ummm." I had no clue because I drank coffee or hot chocolate, never tea. I turned to the cupboard and started rummaging around until finally in one of the lower shelves I found Rose's stash. And quite a stash it was. I straightened up and turned back to face Alice.

"It might be easier if you just tell me what you like because I'd be willing to guess it's here. Rose has a whole shelf full of the stuff." Alice chuckled and I remembered how easy it felt to be around her, which helped me relax a bit.

"Uh ok, does she have Pu-Erh tea?" Alice asked, lifting her head a little to peer into the cupboard behind me. I turned back and bent down. Sorting through the boxes I found that Rose did indeed have Pu-Erh tea. I pulled out the box and turned back to Alice, holding it up triumphantly. She giggled and I put on the kettle to heat up the water. I opened the cupboard where we kept the mugs, above the kettle and pulled out two.

"Which one do you want? The Little Mermaid or Alice in Wonderland?" I held up the two Disney mugs Charlie bought for Rose and me when we were little and went to Disneyland during one of his visits.

"Can I have Alice in Wonderland?" Alice asked excitedly. She looked like a little girl and I let out a laugh.

"Sure, that's good actually. Mine's the Little Mermaid mug anyway."

I turned back and put a teabag in each mug. The kettle clicked and I poured in the water. I picked up the mugs and set them down on the breakfast bar before pulling out a stool and sitting opposite Alice.

"So what exactly is Pu-Erh tea?" I asked, staring sceptically at the murky water in my mug.

"I have no idea."

"What?" I looked up at her sharply, she was grinning from ear to ear.

"I just heard it somewhere and wondered if she'd have it. I usually drink Chamomile," she replied, looking at me all wide eyed and innocent.

"So this could taste like shit?"

"Yup." She nodded her head eagerly. I tentatively took a sip. Yup, it tasted like shit. I wrinkled my nose up at the taste and swallowed down the earthy liquid quickly, shuddering as it slid down my throat.

"Urgh, that is horrible," I said with distaste, sticking out my tongue and making a face. Alice let out a high tinkering laugh and I couldn't help grinning at her. "Your turn." I held out a hand in an inviting gesture. She abruptly stopped laughing.

"No way, going by the look on your face I am not drinking that!" She looked at me with a horrified expression and started laughing again.

"Okay, okay, I'll make us some Chamomile," I acquiesced. I stood up and took our mugs, throwing the teabags away and pouring the putrid water down the sink. I put the box of Pu-Erh tea back in the cupboard and took out the Chamomile. I remade the tea and brought it back to Alice. "Do you have any honey?" she asked.

"Uh, I think so." I turned back to the cupboard and found an unopened jar of Greek honey and got out a teaspoon.

I handed Alice the honey and spoon and I sat down with my tea. _At least it looks a nicer colour this time._

Alice caught my expression. "Don't worry, this one tastes nice. Have some honey with it if it's a little too bitter for you."

I sipped cautiously, found it was a little to bitter and stirred a spoonful of honey into it. Taking another sip I liked it much better and took out the teabag, placing it on the square of kitchen towel Alice had pulled off and placed her own teabag on.

"Better?" she asked. I nodded at her, smiling. She looked down and stirred her tea absent mindedly.

"So, anyway, like I said before, I talked to Edward." Her voice tremored slightly from nerves and my smile vanished. I'd forgotten that was why she was really here.

"Uh-huh," I answered, looking studiously down at my tea. My reflection wavered in the surface of the water.

"So it didn't go well then?" I heard Alice ask. She was fishing. I shook my head, uncertain whether I should tell her about OPOE.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding genuinely remorseful. I looked up at her.

"It's not your fault. Some people don't get on well, that's all," I said, wanting to make her feel better. It wasn't her fault I was a bitch and her brother was, well, how he was. "It's probably for the best anyway," I added, shaking my head slightly and shrugging.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, putting her elbow on the top and leaning her chin in the palm of her hand.

"Well, he's clearly still into his wife, or ex-wife, since he still wears his wedding ring. Besides he's a little too old for me, Alice," I pointed out, deciding to not admit to the sabotage. She laughed again.

"Bella, how old do you think Edward is?" Her tone was light and amused.

"Umm, I don't know, thirty five to thirty eight?"

"No!" she laughed again, but louder this time. "He's thirty two!" I opened my mouth in shock that he was only nine years older than me as opposed to fifteen. Her laughs descended into giggles at my dumbfounded expression. She put out a hand to close my mouth.

"Oh" was all I could think to say. Alice giggled some more.

"I can't believe you thought he was that old! I understand though. He's looked a lot older since he came back from Europe." Her voice settled down to its normal bright tone.

"He went to Europe?" I asked, interested in this little nugget.

"Yeah, he was out there for like six years. He only came back six months ago." Her eyes were bright and her lips curved into a smile.

"Why was he out there so long?" The smile faltered and she suddenly looked unsure.

"He needed some time alone." Her voice grew quieter and I guessed it had something to do with his wife. Edward being a widower seemed to be getting clearer and clearer. If your wife died, would you rather be surrounded by memories of her, or go somewhere completely different where you could grieve in peace? I nodded in understanding.

"So what made him come back?" I picked up my mug and took a sip. Alice looked down and fiddled with the handle.

"My mom is sick," she said quietly

"Oh, I'm sorry." I felt how inadequate my reply was.

"It's okay. She was diagnosed with lymphoma a couple of years ago, but it kept getting worse and she had to have a bone marrow transplant four months ago." Alice kept her head down as she took one of her hands off the bar top and put in her lap, hunching her shoulders slightly.

"How come Edward only came back six months ago then?"

"Mom didn't want him to know, but when she got bad, and we weren't certain how long she had left she told him. He booked a flight home the next day. She was worried he'd be angry at her, but-" She stopped and stiffened. "She reasoned you can't be mad at someone who's dying." Her voice grew even quieter so that she was almost whispering. I stood up and went around to her side. I drew her into a hug and she rested her head under my chin.

"How is your mom now, after the transplant?"

"She's in remission, but we won't know if the transplant worked for a couple of years yet. I go to see her once a week, but she gets tired easily. She feels she has to make me feel welcome, and she pushes herself when she shouldn't, so I only see her once a week. I don't want her to relapse because of me." Alice's voice sounded so childlike, my heart broke for her and I tightened my arms around her.

"Alice, don't say that. I'm sure your mom has nurses to make sure she rests properly."

"My dad's a doctor and he keeps a close eye on her. She got the transplant so quickly because he called in some favours. Edward was only home for a week, trying to make up for a six year absence, when we found out she was going to have to have a bone marrow transplant."

"That must have been a shock. But it was good news, right?"

"Yeah, it was. Hopefully she'll be better now. She won't have as long a life as usual, but it'll be longer than we thought was possible." I could hear she was trying to lighten her tone.

"I really am sorry, Alice."

"It's okay, these things happen. At least it's not terminal." She shrugged slightly in my arms.

"Yeah," I replied quietly. She sighed and pulled out of my arms. I noticed tears glistening in her eyes but she blinked them away.

"Phew, I really didn't mean for that to happen," she chuckled.

"It's okay, Alice, really. If you want to talk, then you know you can always call me or whatever." I shifted nervously, pulling on my sleeves a little over my hands, unused to making myself so available. But I knew Alice needed someone, and now wasn't the time for my selfishness.

"Thanks, Bella, I really appreciate it." She stood up and put her purse strap over her shoulder, smiling at me.

"You're welcome." I shrugged my shoulders.

"I better be going. I'm sorry your date didn't go well. I think maybe if you give Edward another chance you might be surprised. He just, he doesn't know how to be around women." She looked at me with serious eyes, her face straight.

"Despite having a sister?"

"Yeah, I know. Edward's an enigma, but well… I think you could crack him." She gave me a confidant smile and nodded as she spoke.

"What makes you say that?" I narrowed my eyes at her sceptically.

"Just a feeling, call it intuition." She shrugged.

"Well, I better go. I have a venue to check out at noon. I'll see you Friday at the play?" She began to walk toward the door, and I started following her but stopped in my tracks when I heard this.

"What play?"

"There's a play on at Rose and Edward's school. They're doing a production of 'The Ugly Duckling'. Edward's was in charge of music and Rose was in charge of helping them put the dances together." She turned back to me, her face confused.

"I didn't know this, Rose hasn't said anything." Her eyebrows lifted, surprised at my ignorance.

"Oh, well. You should come!" She smiled eagerly, ignoring the fact my own sister hadn't invited me.

"I don't know, maybe Rose doesn't want me to come." I started pulling on my sleeves again and I looked down at the floor.

"Oh, of course she does, and _I _want you to. Please? I'll save you a seat anyway," she warned.

"Okay fine, I'll ask Rose about it," I huffed and looked back up at her.

"Great! I'll see you Friday then!" she exclaimed, walking up to me.

"Yeah, see you Friday, Alice." She leant up and kissed me on the cheek, pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back and let go. She trotted up to the door and left, waving before she closed it behind her.

I stood at the door thinking over what Alice had told me, and how Edward flew home basically the day after finding out about his mother's illness. How he felt he had six years to make up for, not knowing how long he'd have. I was faced with a serious dilemma. Could I with good conscience carry on OPOE knowing what I now knew? But then, I couldn't deny there was something about the man that pissed me off. He was rude, arrogant and presuming. Even worse when he was drunk.

I went and sat down on the couch. On one end of the coffee table stood Edward's roses, at the other end, the freesias.

I sat in between them with my head in my hands and wondered about Edward Cullen.

The Edward Cullen I'd met and the Edward Cullen I'd heard about.

Which one was real, and which one was fake?

**A/N: So there it is, review if you're so inclined I value each and every one. And remember to put me on author alert if you want to read EPOV. Thank you.**


	8. I Think of Everything I Shouldn't Say

**A/N: I have no excuse, I haven't given you the EPOV yet and this is majorly late. I'm very sorry. The EPOV is very nearly ready I swear. But I'm a perfectionist and I want it to be as good as I can make it.**

**Love and thanks to cdunbar, justjennie and JenNnNn for allowing me to vent, procrastinate and ramble. **

**And double love and thanks to cdunbar for being a super speedy beta. When I'm pretty sure she was at work.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, _The Pretender_ belongs to Foo Fighters.  
**

8. I Think Of Everything I Shouldn't Say And Say It

_'I'm the voice inside your head you refuse to hear_

_I'm the face that you have to face, mirrorin' your stare_

_I'm what's left, I'm what's right, I'm the enemy_

_I'm the hand that'll take you down, bring you to your knees_

_So who are you? Yeah, who are you?'_

_The Pretender by Foo Fighters_

Two days later I finally talked to Rose, but I went through three nights of Hell first. The first two nights I dreamt of blood, the third a child. As soon as I started dreaming of children out came the pills. If Emmett thought I had been bad a couple of nights ago, he knew it was nothing compared to what happened Christmas Eve night.

Rose and Emmett had gone to a party and got in late, when it was technically Christmas Day. I, of course, had stayed behind - I hadn't been invited, but even if I had I wouldn't have gone. And when they returned home, in high Christmas spirits and drunk on the milk of human kindness, I greeted them by shrieking, flailing and crying hysterically in my sleep. I am five foot four and I weigh around one hundred and twelve pounds, but that didn't stop me punching Emmett in the nose while he tried to gently wake me up. I spent Christmas Day nursing a broken hand and basically catatonic. My dream so traumatizing, and when mixed with the nature of the day, I mentally couldn't take it and retreated so far back into my consciousness I didn't re-emerge until the Christmas tree had been taken down halfway through January. Emmett had a broken nose that had to be reset at four o'clock in the morning by a stressed and over worked ER nurse who just wanted to be at home with his family. We'd had better Christmases.

Rose booked me an appointment with the doctor shortly after our disastrous first Christmas together. The doctor prescribed me very strong sleeping pills, which I only took when my dreams started being of that deceptively angelic child. The pills felt more like tranquillizers and often left me with dangerously impaired balance, slurred voice and my brain worked so slowly I couldn't write.

So my reason for going to see Rose's play was selfish - I didn't want to take the pills.

My sympathy for Edward wore thin when I started seeing a child's smiling face in my sleep, and I knew the chance of pushing Edward into another argument would be high. I had spoken to Alice the day before. She was annoyed I still hadn't spoken to Rose, and I discovered there would be an after-show 'thing'. Basically all the teachers and any friends or family who had come to the play would hang out in the library drinking or recovering. I saw this as my chance and the desire for another night of undisturbed rest was too tempting. Even if it was the last chance I got. So I silenced my conscience, ignored my pride and simply denied the existence of my fear.

It was Friday morning and I was sitting at the breakfast bar sipping my coffee, Emmett sat across from me, eating cereal and reading the paper. I kept my head down, allowing my hair to fall down around me, shielding my face. I had woken from my dream shaking and crying. No one had rushed in but I'm sure Emmett had heard me if Rose hadn't. I didn't fall back asleep, so I was already downstairs when Emmett came down, working on my third cup of coffee. He made his breakfast, retrieved the paper and said nothing to me, apart from a good morning.

I was grateful Emmett knew when to shut up.

I sat sipping tepid coffee and staring steadily at the bar top, once more seeing my haunted reflection in the glossy surface. Although I had to wonder, was I being haunted or doing the haunting.

As I heard Rose walk down the stairs it was as though time slowed down. I held my breath and it seemed like Rose took for-fucking-ever to reach the bottom step. Finally, she graced the kitchen with her presence and I decided the only way to do this was to just spit it out.

"Alice told me there was a play on at your school tonight."

Emmett's spoon clattered into his bowl but I never lifted my head. I heard Rose's heels clicking against the floor stop. "Yeah, there is. We're doing 'The Ugly Duckling', y'know 'cause it's nearly spring."

I lifted my head and, out of the periphery of my vision, saw Rose grab a mug off the draining board and pour out some coffee from the pot. I waited until she was sitting next to Emmett before I said anything else. She never lifted her eyes to me once.

When she was seated, I spoke up. Inside I was ten kinds of mortified because I was going to ask my own sister to invite me to see her school play. Luckily, my façade made that impossible to tell.

"So, you and Emmett will be out tonight then," I said nonchalantly, Emmett looked from me to Rose before deciding to just go back to his paper. I thanked him silently.

"Yes, Emmett's going straight to the school from work and I'm going to be running rehearsals until the play starts. Then there'll be some drinks in the library afterwards so we won't be home until about nine or ten." She was looking at me cautiously and I wasn't certain why.

"How come you never told me about it?" I looked back down, bracing myself for the inevitable rejection. There was a long pause. I kept my eyes determinedly trained on examining the split ends I could spy from the strands of hair that fell in front of my face.

"I didn't think you'd be interested." I looked up at Rose in shock, she looked miserable. Her mouth was turned down at the corners and her forehead was heavily creased. Her eyes looked directly into mine and suddenly it wasn't the twenty-three year old college graduate Bella sitting across from the twenty-seven year old gym teacher Rose anymore.

We were both little children again, sitting in our back yard and I'd fallen over and hurt my knee. Blood was trickling down and I was crying bitterly. Rose tried to put her arms round me to comfort me but I pushed her away. I was a big girl, ashamed of my tears and I didn't need Rose to comfort me. But my loud crying drew Renee out and she rushed over to me, lifting me up in her arms. I didn't push her away. I wanted my mom. And the hurt that showed so obviously on ten year old Rosalie's face when I looked down from my mother's arms was what I saw in front of me now.

"I am interested. I'd like to come tonight. If you want me there," I spoke quietly and indifferently. But I hoped Rose saw in my eyes how much I meant it.

"Yeah, sure, you can come. It starts at six." Rose shrugged, matching my uncaring air. But her hands fidgeted about her mug, her eyes flickered around nervously, and she chewed the inside of her cheek.

She returned to drinking her coffee and so did I, even though it was now cold. Suddenly I didn't want to go and see Rose's play just so I could selfishly shout at a man whose mother was ill because it helped me sleep at night. I wanted to go and see Rose's play because I pushed her away all those years ago, and it had hurt her so much she never forgot. And I hadn't fucking realized.

Later, I sat in my bathtub full of scalding hot water and allowed memories to wash over me. Memories of a little blonde girl and little brunette girl playing together. They were like a sideshow in my mind. Gradually the little girls grew bigger and played together less and less. They moved further and further away from each other. But if I had rejected Rose's offer of comfort from an age as young as six, where we ever that close? I had never felt a deep strong bond of sisterhood toward Rose. I loved her, very much. But I didn't always like her and I never confided in her. When I had my first kiss it wasn't her I went to, it wasn't even my mother. I told my teddy bear. When I had sex for the first time, I didn't speak to Rose about it. She probably thinks I'm still a virgin. She hasn't ever met any ex boyfriend. _Well, I've only had one. _And as that thought popped into my head, all my defences were down and I was suddenly very, very aware I was lying naked in water that was too hot to lie in. I jumped up in the burning water screaming, scrambled out of the tub and slipped. My head whacked down hard on the edge of the bath and everything went black.

Hitting your head on the edge of a ceramic bathtub should hurt like a bitch. When you wake up, you should feel like your head has been split in two and you clutch it, desperately trying to hold it back together while you moan in agony. You shouldn't be able to move for sometime.

I stood up instantly.

I felt no pain, just the effects. I couldn't feel a sickening ache in my head as I stood up, but my vision swam before my eyes nonetheless. My knees buckled and I had to shoot my hands out to catch myself on the edge of the bath, narrowly missing the bloodstain where flesh met ceramic. I shut my eyes, not to block out the pain but to clear my vision. I could feel no pain. I could feel a dull ache at the back of my head that aggravated me, but nothing more. I opened my eyes once more and turned around to grab a towel off the towel rack. My skin was covered in goose pimples from lying on a cold, white tiled floor for hours but I couldn't feel anything. Running a constant temperature of mediocrity, I was in the middle and felt neither hot nor cold. I didn't even feel warm or cool. Instead, I was comfortably numb.

I wrapped the towel around my body before feeling around the back of my head for where I had hit the rim of the tub. I came across a small encrusted wound high up in the centre. I took my hand away and turned on the shower. Pulling off the shower head, I closed my eyes and flipped my head over. I breathed through my mouth as I washed the blood out of my hair.

I shut off the shower, tightened the towel around me and walked out of the bathroom back to my room. I stumbled and had to clutch the wall and door for support, but I made it there all the same.

I vigorously towel dried the ends of my hair and decided to forego anymore tests today, deciding that a blow to the head I could barely feel was test enough.

I dressed simply, jeans and a t shirt. I kept my hair down and ran a brush through it briefly before leaving it to dry in its own time.

The play was due to start in forty five minutes, which meant I'd lain unconscious on the bathroom floor for two hours. It wouldn't take me long to drive to the school, probably about fifteen minutes, so I went downstairs and made a sandwich. It was probably a good idea not to rant at Edward on an empty stomach.

_About what, I haven't a fucking clue._

I'd exhausted the whole 'you had sex with a stranger on my bed and didn't apologize' argument. I also couldn't have a go at him for ruining my 'Chanel' shirt as Rose knows I don't own a vintage Chanel shirt and couldn't give a flying fuck about clothes. I sat at the breakfast bar, mulling over my predicament as I slowly ate my sandwich. I waited patiently for inspiration to strike. When the clock showed forty minutes past five and it still hadn't presented itself, I decided to just improvise.

_Improvising is good. It worked last time._

I ran up the stairs to grab my jacket and purse, still ignoring the fact my vision would lurch when I moved too quickly and I wasn't precisely sure what angle the floor was at.

I left the house, climbed into my truck and drove to Rose's school. The sun was lighting the sky with vivid orange streaks, the evening calm and peaceful and so was I. I innocently calculated I'd have to sit through an hour long play where children pranced up and down the stage, and then I'd meet up with Rose in the library where Edward would also be. I'd down a glass of wine or two for courage, assuming I could actually feel the effects, and then I'd swagger on up to Edward. Engage him in some angry verbal sparring where he'd get riled up, I'd get pissed and all that pent up anger that was tightly packed into me would deliciously come pouring out. I would then go home and have the deepest, most resting fucking sleep of my life. And I wouldn't dream of a child for a very long time.

I parked outside the school and walked in. The play was going to start in three minutes and I thanked the great big pixie in the sky that there were directions of where to go. I'd never set foot in Rose's school before and didn't have a clue where anything was. I followed the red paper arrows and found my way to the assembly hall, where inside there were rows of chairs laid out. I briefly wondered how I'd find Alice when Alice suddenly found me. A high spirited, merry voice rang out across the room, effectively silencing all the conversations taking place. "Bella! You made it!"

I squinted into the middle difference and saw tiny little Alice waving her hand vigorously above her head, making her presence known to me... and everyone else. However ignoring the snide chuckles, I kept my head up and walked over to her. She hugged me tightly when I reached her and gestured for me to sit down.

"I'm so glad you came. Jasper rang to say he wouldn't be able to make it and I was worried you'd back out too."

"No, of course I came. I said I would." I neglected to mention my original selfish reason or even my new unselfish one. "Why isn't Jasper coming?"

"He had to work late. He'll miss the play but said he 'might' make the gathering after wards." Alice's tone grew tighter as she reached the end of the sentence and the stark lighting made her frown distinctly obvious.

"Oh. Does he work late often?" I tried to keep my voice light and free of suspicion.

"Too often." Her tone just grew darker and she hastily crossed her legs and arms.

"Well... I'm sure he..." I had no idea how to end the sentence, so I just gave up and stared down at my lap biting my lip. It was either that or my tongue.

"Bella, do you think Jasper's having an affair?" Alice didn't sound wondering or curious, like she was asking my opinion on the faithfulness of her husband. Instead, she sounded entertained. I turned to look at her only to find her eyebrow cocked and her mouth turned into an amused smirk. I opened my mouth but no words flew out, so I just shut it and shook my head dumbly.

"Trust me, he isn't having an affair. The guilt would practically emanate from him. He can't hide his emotions at all." She leaned back into the hard plastic chair with a satisfied smile. I turned to face the front, feeling awful that that was the assumption my mind automatically jumped to.

I saw we weren't too far from the stage, where a dusty looking blue velvet curtain obstructing our view of the players behind. In front of me sat a lone woman anxiously checking her watch. She had cropped coppery hair that looked thick with a wave to it. A tall, dark haired man with cautious eyes hurried in and sat next to her. He apologized for being late in a deep voice. I began to listen to his excuses when I felt a large hand clap down on my shoulder. I screeched loudly, clutching my chest and when loud barking laughter met my ears, I knew it was Emmett. I turned and glared at him. "Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?" I said darkly. Alice giggled beside me.

"Hi, Emmett, you're just in time. Curtain's about to go up." she trilled.

Emmett at down beside me and I turned back to face the front, pursing my lips and ignoring him.

"Hi, Alice. Sorry about Jasper."

"It's okay. I have plans for him later." her upbeat tone turned calculating.

"And what might they include? Or should I not ask?"

We didn't get to hear these plans of Alice's because the lights went out, clothing the room in darkness, only lit by a solitary spotlight on the stage. A loud chorus of shushing spread throughout the room, followed by utter silence. The curtain lifted and the play began.

I knew I was there for Rose. I knew for some unknown reason my presence there made her happy.

But at the end of the day, it was just a bunch of kids running around on stage shrieking about a funky looking bird.

They were all about six, they had no interest in sticking to a routine, and their attempt at junior ballet looked like dramatic pointing with all four limbs. And they half spoke, half shouted the songs to their own beat. I could see Edward at the piano to the side of the stage begin the play looking despondent and end it looking suicidal. I felt a pang of guilt for what was going to happen to him next when I ambushed him in the library, but seeing as it was the last time, I felt I owed it to myself. He also looked slightly comical toward the end, bashing the keys in anger, hair in disarray, looking like Beethoven.

The play finally ended, much to the delight of the audience. I'm sure it was relief that made them clap so loudly. It's why I did, anyway, and I swore I heard Alice sigh, "Thank God."

The light blasted back on, blinding everyone, and I stumbled after Emmett to the library where he told me we'd wait for Rose to show up.

The library was only a couple of corridors away and happily, there was already an opened bottle of wine inside on the table with glasses beside it. Alice and I immediately poured ourselves a glass. "It wasn't that bad," Emmett muttered behind me. Didn't stop him from pouring a glass out for himself, though, I noticed. Alice and I went to sit in a couple of cushioned seats opposite the door near a bookcase filled with plays. Emmett leaned against a table near the door. There were several other people in here too, quietly drinking whilst they waited. Alice's phone chirped - literally the chirp was her message tone - and she spent the next ten minutes absorbed in it while I flicked through a copy of _The Taming of the Shrew_.

Rose eventually burst through the door, looking incredibly pissed off, and she dived straight for the glass of wine Emmett was holding out for her, taking a large gulp and swallowing noisily. Looking Emmett directly in the eye she said, "I know. Don't worry, I know." Emmett nodded at her, looking slightly worried. She came over to Alice and me and folded herself neatly into an empty chair.

"I'm never teaching ballet to six year olds again," Rose promised herself, looking moodily into her glass. Emmett walked behind her chair after placing his glass on the low table. He rubbed her shoulders while Rose sunk back into the chair, humming and closing her eyes. I went back to reading, not wanting to observe their intimacy. Alice had nodded briefly in Rose's direction and given her a sympathetic smile before returning her attention to her phone. A loud slamming door, however, brought everyone out of their preoccupations.

It was Edward.

He stamped into the room, spotted us and threw himself into the remaining empty chair in our circle, glaring the whole time. Alice eyed him warily over the top of her phone, and then she darted her eyes quickly away again when he caught her eye. Rose and Emmett decided to move away from the hostility he was emanating, so they went to sit in another set of chairs in a more secluded corner of the library.

"I think you could do with a drink." I heard Alice say. I looked away from Edward's tortured form to see her scurrying away, still looking at her phone. However, that left Edward and I alone and I wondered when to seize my chance. I bit my lip nervously as I glanced at him. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. I looked away from him and put the book back on the shelf. On the row above I spotted a Roald Dahl book, obviously put back in the wrong place. It was _Esiotrot. _I smiled at the memory of me begging Renee for tortoise after reading that story. I was amazed when she said no. She was the one with a history of impulse desires after all.

"What the hell are you smiling about then?" I heard Edward say bitterly and with resentment. I looked at him, alarmed and wondering who he was talking to. His direct glare at me with a clenched jaw and hands suggested it was me. My first instinct was to tell him what I was smiling at, to defend myself from the paranoid accusation I heard in his tone. However him starting the argument wasn't a concept I'd thought of and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity. So I set my jaw and looked at him icily.

"What are you suggesting?" I baited, remembering how easily he fell into my traps. Alice came back then with a glass of wine and set it in front of Edward. She took in his stare and turned to look at me nervously. I caught her eye and she nodded almost to herself.

"I'm just... gonna go outside and call Jasper. Bad signal," she said hesitantly before turning tail and fleeing from the library.

Edward's eyes hadn't left mine the whole time and when he spoke his tone was no gentler or calmer.

"I don't see any reason why you should be smiling tonight. The play was an absolute fucking car crash. Unless you take delight in other people's failures." His words stung and I narrowed my eyes.

"Only if the person deserves them."

"You think I do? You think your sister does?" he sneered. It was a low blow and I decided if he wasn't going to play fair anymore, neither was I. Not that I really was to begin with.

"No, Rose didn't deserve everything to fall apart the way it did tonight. But you. Well, what can I say? Karma's a bitch." His eyes widened, his jaw slackened, and then he started wringing his hands frantically.

"So you're saying I deserve whatever bad things happen to me?"

"Basically, yeah. Anything bad that happens to you couldn't happen to anyone more deserving." I spoke harshly, cruelly, evilly and without thinking. The words shot out of my mouth like a poisoned arrow and went directly into Edward's heart. Pain registered in his dark eyes, the muscles in his jaw stood out as he clenched his jaw and his hands were frozen into fists.

"I'll remember to pass your words onto my wife and mother," he spat before rising sharply and stalking out the room, slamming the door even louder than he had when he came in.

I dropped my head to hands.

_Bella Swan, eat your words you heartless witch._

**A/N: I swear to god they will eventually get together. Key word- Eventually. Reviews would be great, even if it's just to shout at me.**


	9. Sympathy For The Devil

**A/N: Please read my note at the bottom.**

**As always love and thanks to cdunbar whose beta'ing skills know no bounds. **

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, The Rolling Stones own 'Sympathy for the Devil' and William Shakespeare owns Sonnet No. 10.  
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9. Sympathy For The Devil

_'For thou possest with murd'rous hate,_

_That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st not to conspire,_

_Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate,_

_Which to repair should be thy chief desire.'  
_

_Sonnet No. 10 by William Shakespeare  
_

A library is usually a quiet place. It demands it. You never feel it is appropriate to raise your voice above your normal volume while in one out of respect.

Edward's and my conversation was conducted at a reasonable volume. And even after his abrupt and raucous exit, not a word was spoken.

The silence was ear splitting.

Either that or my numbness was beginning to retreat in the aftermath of my confrontation with Edward and I was finally beginning to feel the motherfucker of a headache I should have felt a few hours ago.

I looked up from my hands and saw Emmett and Rosalie staring at me. Emmett looked like he was at a loss of what to think anymore. And Rose was giving me a 'what did you say now?' look. I knew precisely what I'd said. I knew I could sometimes forget to think before I spoke, but I'm pretty sure telling someone whose wife was possibly dead and whose mother had cancer they deserved it was a pretty fucking big blunder.

The irony of my situation wasn't lost on me. Who was I to talk of Karma? God knows what the fates had in store for me now.

I stood up and began to move toward the door, keeping my eyes directly on my path. Not daring to look at my sister and brother-in-law, not even caring about the others in the room that were still waiting on their own teacher.

"Bella, where are you going?" Rose's voice struck me stone still. It was the voice she reserved for people she very nearly despised and it was more powerful than a gorgon's stare. I stiffly turned my head to look at her. She looked ready to kill me.

"Rose, I think I better go home. I'll see you later." I noticed a tremble in my words and felt an uncomfortable pressure of water in my eyes. My head was beginning a sickening pound and my legs felt unstable. Her expression softened at my words, turning to confusion.

"Bella? Why do you do this?" she sighed hopelessly.

My mouth went dry and even if I had any intention of answering her, I wouldn't have been able to find my voice. I felt the tears in my eyes begin to fall. I was sorry. So, so sorry.

The burden of guilt swelled in my lungs as panic bubbled up, making my breath catch in my throat. A gasping noise escaped me as I clutched my throat, bent forward and looked down at the floor. I watched my tears that fell from my face drip onto the carpet. I felt an arm around my shoulders and it forcefully pushed me out the library as breaths were strangled in my throat and tears fell. The arm around my shoulders disappeared and I felt hands grip my jaw beneath my ears and lift my head up. I stared straight into sea blue eyes. Rose's eyes.

"Bella, breathe," she said firmly. I kept our gazes locked and forced my breaths to even. They came out sounding shuddering and harsh but they did start to calm. The iron grip she had on my face loosened and her eyes became soft and worried. "Bella, has something like this happened before?" Her voice was careful, but concerned.

"Rose, I-" I tried to answer her. I wanted to be able to, but the words wouldn't come. It felt too late, I'd travelled this road too long. Rose was far behind me, vanishing into the mist of memories that I was beginning to forget. And that hurt.

I could feel the stains on my cheeks from the tears. There could be no more of this. I forced that wall to come up, to bind all my grief, fear and hatred into one huge ball of pain and hide deep inside my gut. Leave it to fester for another day. Rose saw the change, my withdrawal. She sighed heavily and took her hands off me, stepping to the side and away from me.

"Emmett and I are going to stay a bit longer, but you can go home if you want, Bella." She was looking studiously at the floor, her arms crossed.

"Okay." I cringed inwardly at the sound of my dead voice. I hated it, but I needed it. It was all I had to stop from falling into a pit I would never climb out of.

I turned on my heel and walked the down the corridors, dimly remembering my way back to the assembly hall, from where I went in the direction opposite to which the arrows dictated.

I stepped out into the cool, crisp evening air. The night was dark, the sky clear. I walked away from the school -- from Rose, from Alice, from Emmett, from my family. I headed in the direction of my car but stopped when I heard a strange noise. Scuffling sounds accompanied by angry curses were coming from a nearby outbuilding and a familiar silver Volvo.

I was a fool, I was a masochist, I was a sadist. I had caused enough damage tonight, but his voice drew me to him like a sinner is lured to the Devil.

I cautiously walked up to his car. I could see a dark shape behind it, moving swiftly and violently toward the wall. Curses so enraged and guttural, flying through the night air to my ears that it was hard to make out the words. The repeated use of 'fuck' however was very clear to me as it punctuated each indistinguishable snarl. I edged around the car, nervous as to what I would see, and what response I would get if he saw me. As soon as I was past his headlight it was clear what he was doing to cause the scuffling noise. He repeatedly walked up to the wall, kicking it hard with the side of his foot as fury flew off his tongue. I watched him do this for a few moments when suddenly instead of returning to kick the wall he stopped. I froze and my blood ran cold, wondering if he was aware of my presence. But then as I saw him clench his fists, his back stiff with tension, raise his left arm, his elbow drawn back to his ear and prepare to charge at the wall I no longer cared what my presence would do to him.

"No!" My cry was a gut reflex as soon as I saw him take a step. He stopped immediately and lowered his arm. He turned slowly toward me, his head turning first. My breath caught at the expression on his face.

He stood before me, shaking with unreleased rage and all I could think was how glorious he looked. The lamps standing around the school car park glinted in his hair, picking out the bronze as though his hair were aflame, stark against the black shadows. _Like a sungod trapped in the dark._

His face was twisted in pain, his eyes dark. Darker than I'd ever seen eyes go. He looked lost, grief stricken and tortured.

_I have done this. This was me._

As I surveyed my selfish handiwork, my pitiful wall crumbled within me and I felt another tear ghost down my cheek. I always viewed the loss of my façade as a weakness, making me vulnerable, but now I realized it could help me. I brought all my self hatred and misery to the surface. I let it simmer beneath my skin and shine through my eyes. Looking directly into Edward Cullen's face, with clenched fists and a head held high, I showed him how I felt. I showed my regret and my sorrow. I only hoped it was enough.

An incline of his head, so small and quick I barely caught it through my watery eyes, showed his acknowledgement. But as he turned away from me, choosing to stare at the wall he'd poured his fury into, he told me he couldn't accept it.

I nodded slowly to myself and backed away, my head hung in deserved shame. Once I was a few metres away I turned around and swiftly headed for my truck. I clambered in, ignoring the rushing in my ears and the pounding in my head. I forced my focus to remain on the road while I drove, not letting what had passed between Edward and I or the late effects of my fall distract me. _An accident would not be a good thing right now_, I thought with a shudder.

I finally pulled safely into Rose and Emmett's drive. As I climbed down from my truck, I felt my knees give slightly and held on to the door for support. My vision was starting to lurch once more, my head was aching and throbbing and I felt so very tired. I stumbled my way into the house and up to my room. I sunk into my bed, kicking off my shoes and climbing under the covers. I deserved no sleep, though. I had every intention of forcing myself to stay awake the whole night. But all coherent thought drifted away as I felt the comfort of sleep take me, a comfort I wasn't strong enough to resist.

To my disgust I slept soundly and deeply. I had no dreams, no nightmares. It was the first night I would have welcomed them, the first night I wanted them. But as though they could feel my desperation to pay for my sins, none came. I could not get justice.

I woke with a stretch, laying back on my pillows to let the morning chorus of birds wash over me. My body felt heavy and stiff. I was reluctant to move but dimly remembered sleeping a lot after hitting your head was not advisable. I pulled my reluctant body from the softness of my bed with a groan. I felt awful.

I'd slept in my clothes from last night, so my jeans felt stiff and uncomfortable. My mouth was dry and my hair knotted. But it was guilt that was my dominating feature that morning. It weighed heavily in my chest, another painful burden to carry. I wearily sat on the edge of my bed and looked down at my hands laying limply in my lap in thought.

I deserved the guilt. I had behaved so badly toward Edward. Yet our encounter last night by his car wasn't the apology I wanted to give. I needed to say the words, I realized. I needed to go up to him and apologize properly. _With words and everything,_ I thought wryly. And it wasn't because it would make me feel better, since how I felt was of little or no consequence. It was because I owed it to him. After saying what I had, I owed him the common decency to go up and apologize to his face for how rude I'd been to him. And not just for last night, but the times before that as well. With widening eyes and trembling hands I realized I needed to confess to it all. The thought terrified me, knowing that the resulting anger he'd unleash upon me would not be able to be deflected this time. I would need to bow my head and accept it. The thought of lowering myself before him disgusted me. I did not like men to have power over me. But this one time, it was necessary. And it was unlikely I would ever see him again, unlikely he would ever want to see me again.

A strange feeling of sadness settled over me, cloaking the guilt and doubling its weight. With a heavy heart, I pulled myself off my bed and began to get ready for the day. I skipped the tests and experimentation in the bath for I truly wasn't in the mood that day.

When I went downstairs, dressed and depressed, Rose and Emmett were nowhere to be found. I found a note on the breakfast bar written in Emmett's hand --

_Bella,_

_Rose and I have gone out for the day. Thought I'd treat Rose to a nice day out after what happened last night. We'll be back later._

_Take care,_

_Emmett_

I couldn't help but notice his words 'what happened last night'. He hadn't written 'the play', but just classified the whole night as ruined. Once again that was due to me and the guilt intensified, turning into a roiling ball of acid that burnt a hole in my insides.

A sequence of rapid knocks drew my attention away from the note and to the door. I crossed over to it and lifted the latch.

I started slightly when I saw it was Alice standing on the doorstep. I half expected her to reach out, rip my still beating heart from my chest and stomp on it for being a complete bitch to her brother. The sympathetic smile and soft look in her eyes was therefore a shock to me.

"Hi... Alice. What, uh. What can I help you with?" I said hesitantly.

"Is it okay if I come in, Bella?" She looked into my eyes carefully as though she were measuring my response.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry, come in." I stepped aside and she walked over the threshold, pausing once inside.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?" she said, a calm smile upon her face.

"Forgotten what?" I felt my eyebrows pull together in confusion. I realised I was still gripping the open door with both hands, standing partially behind it like it was shield. I closed the door softly and gestured awkwardly toward the kitchen. No matter how comfortable I felt around Alice, playing hostess would never come naturally to me.

She settled in one of the bar stools while I settled in another. Turning to me with a smile and arched brow she said, "It's Saturday." I nodded slowly at her. I was aware it was Saturday. When she didn't elaborate further, just simply looked at me with this strange serene smile, I sighed in frustration.

"Okay, Alice, it's Saturday. I knew that already but whatever. Now is that all or...?" I crossed my arms and quirked an eyebrow right back at her. Her smile grew more animated and a mischievous glint came into her eyes.

"You agreed to go shopping with me today," she stated with a simple little shrug of her shoulders. I stared at her incredulously. I had forgotten. Somewhere between shouting at her brother last week and... insulting her brother last night I had completely forgotten to get out of it. She could see the growing panic in my eyes.

"Bella, calm down," she said firmly, uncrossing my arms and taking my clenched fists into her open palms. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but I think it would be good for you to get out of the house. And we won't be long, I just need to pick up something for a party tonight and then we can go grab some food." Her face was sincere and comforting. That alone made me mistrust the honesty of her statement.

"We will be no more than three hours," I said forcefully, looking into her eyes to show my seriousness. She nodded placidly and hopped down from the stool.

"I'll be in the car, you go get your things," she said as she glided out the door.

I sighed, sliding reluctantly off the stool and gathering my things. I soon joined Alice in her yellow Porsche and we left Rose's house in silence.

I was surprised to see she was driving me to a nearby mall. We were not venturing into the city like I had suspected. She must have seen my surprised expression, for she commented innocently, "You did say we only had three hours, right?" _Damn. S_he had a found a way round my condition to squeeze as much shopping induced torture she could out of it.

She hopped out of the car once parked and I followed her, biting the inside of my cheek for fear I would scream.

The next couple of hours I followed Alice around from various shops. It wasn't really that bad, just boring. I watched her flit from rack to rack, plucking what she desired seemingly at random before flitting to the changing rooms and then directly to the till. She never had to put an item back.

I would follow her, letting my eyes mist over and spent the time pondering. Mainly pondering Edward and the problem of how best to apologize, which I still had no clue how to solve. The fact Alice hadn't brought last night up at all worried me, but I could sense no venom or bile in her. _Maybe Edward and I should swap siblings. _

I once made the mistake of casting my glance over a rack and letting my fingers drift over the sleeves of the shirts. Alice immediately darted to my side and started to pick pieces out, urging me to try them on. My firm "No," followed by my own death glare that I learnt from Rose managed to dissuade her. I refused to let myself feel like I'd just kicked a puppy when I saw her sad little frown. She would just have to get over it.

As I wandered down aisles waiting for Alice to finish plundering Glen Ellyn's designer shops of all their goods, I felt a strange sense of unease come over me. I began to feel out of place. I was a young woman, I had my own money, I had every right to be there. Yet whilst I stood in their brightly lit boutiques, with their polished floors and polished clothes, I felt...shabby. Alice fit here, her posture exuded confidence. I, however, felt like costume jewellery on the floor of Tiffany's. The shop assistants stood to the sides, their eyes following Alice as she danced her way through their stock. They never lifted their eyes to me. I slouched through their regimented world with my damp, hastily plaited hair, my scuffed converses, my faded jeans and my wrinkled t shirt. The feeling grew so intense that I started to wait on a bench outside the shops for Alice. At first she protested, then relented when I mentioned I had a headache and couldn't drink water in the shops, for fear of activating the 'designer nazis'.

She finally left the last clothes shop that had any hope of attracting her credit card and we went to a couple of music stores, and then a book shop. For they attracted mine.

There was no unease there.

As we grabbed a coffee and a panini in a nearby Starbucks, we had a quiet and inconsequential conversation. We determinedly avoided last night and anything related to her brother, which included music, dancing, Hans Christian Anderson, Rose, Emmett and panic attacks outside elementary school libraries.

Instead we discussed Jasper, who did not turn up in the end last night. Alice revealed a little more about the 'problems' she and Jasper were having. They'd agreed to settle down in Glen Ellyn to lead a quieter, more family focused life because they needed to grow up and stop the midweek bar crawls they had enjoyed so often in Chicago. This was Alice's opinion anyway, and what I took to mean 'family focused' equalled Esme and Edward focused. Jasper apparently had some difficulty in adjusting to their new way of life, since his job required him to be in the city Monday to Friday. This also required him to be near his friends and the opportunity to go out after a particularly rough day was too tempting for poor Jasper. Except, according to Alice, nearly every day was a tough day for Jasper and she now barely saw him, except for weekends. Alice was feeling lonely, used to Jasper's constant presence, and when combined with Esme's illness, Glen Ellyn was proving to be a tougher move than she thought. They'd been living here for a year and things weren't getting better.

As we were talking, a tall blonde made her way over to our table. She wore no make-up for her complexion was clear and rosy. Her eyes were a cool blue and her hair flaxen blonde, short and tied up into a pony tail. Her face appeared stern at first but as she bent to kiss Alice on the cheek and greeted her, her expression softened. The corner of her eyes lifted up when she smiled making her appear merry and cheerful.

"Hello, Alice, how are you?" She spoke with a mildly strong eastern European accent, which wasn't hard to understand but it was prominent.

"I'm good, Irina! I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be busy getting the party ready."

"Oh, I just needed to come and pick some things up. I decided to get a coffee on my way out," she replied, gesturing to her cup with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Sorry!" Alice said, suddenly remembering her manners and turning to me. "This is my friend Bella, Bella this is Irina. She's the languages teacher at Edward's school." Alice introduced us, gesturing with her hand. I turned and offered my hand to shake but Irina swooped down, putting one arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek before standing back up and shaking my hand.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, smiling.

"Hi," I replied, startled.

"So how do you know Alice?" she asked, pulling a chair from the table behind her, sitting down, and then sipping from her take-out coffee cup.

"Oh, well. She's friends with my sister and I met her at a party my sister threw."

"Bella is Roses' sister," Alice added.

"You're Rosalie's sister?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in identical arches.

"Yeah," I said, slightly puzzled. The way she was looking at me made me start to feel vulnerable and I felt the façade slipping back into place in response.

"Sorry, I just… Well, I guess I pictured someone a little different." She shrugged, grinning.

"Oh," I replied, not knowing if I should feel insulted or not. Alice seemed to sense my confusion and guarded mood.

"Edward got back to you to say he was coming, right?" she jumped in.

"Oh yes, he told me Friday. Don't worry," Irina answered with a knowing look at Alice. I suddenly felt I was missing something.

"And Rose and Emmett are coming too," Irina added. I now felt left out as well. This shopping trip was doing a number on my self esteem and I mulled over simply going home and ending it all now.

"You should come." Irina's abrupt statement brought me out of my head and I stared dumbly at her.

"Sorry?"

"The party I'm throwing tonight. You should come too." She was looking at me sincerely, her hands wrapped round her mug while her eyes gazed steadily at me.

"Oh. Okay, sure I'd love to, thank you." I managed to remember the appropriate response to when someone invites you to a party. It had been a while.

"I'd better be going, I'll see you both at eight, alright?" Irina said, rising from her chair. Alice nodded, grinning and I offered a small smile.

It was only until she'd kissed both Alice and I on the cheek goodbye and left that a thought occurred to me. A thought that made my blood run cold. I turned toward Alice stiffly. She saw the look in my eyes and straightened her spine in fear.

"Tanya won't be there, will she?" I asked her.

Alice burst out into loud, delighted laughter, which didn't answer my question at all.

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**A/N: Okay I'm putting this at the bottom in hopes you'll read it, but if you dont thats fine. I have things to say and I wanna say them.**

**SO MUCH LOVE TO PETALOUDA8. She recommended TATH on the livejournal Lion and Lamb community page. I am so immensely humbled that she did that. Seriously my beta can vouch for how insecure and how little I think of my writing ability. So I am definitely sending a whole lotta love to Petalouda8 right now.**

I also got mentioned on the temptation podcast! The link to the podcast is on my profile if you haven't heard it yet, which you SHOULD! It's hilarious and amazing.

**Also lots and lots of love to Christine for that, I was stunned and couldn't believe what I was hearing.**

Which leads me to my last point. Yes I am starting another story, and yes it is slash and yes Bella is a boy. I hope you guys read it when it's up, I'll let you know. But I understand if slash isn't for you. My take will be a little different hopefully. 

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Oh and trust me the EPOV is on it's way, I'm so sorry it's taking so long. I feel guilty for taking so long with it.**

Thanks for reading and hope you review!


	10. Eris and Harmonia

**A/N: To show how sorry I am for still not posting the EPOV I got this chapter done really quickly. This is one of my favorite chapters, well this and the next one.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, 'Jane Eyre' belongs to Charlotte Bronte.**

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**10. Eris and Harmonia

"_Have I not found her friendless, and cold, and comfortless? Will I not guard, and cherish, and solace her?"_

_Mr Rochester~ 'Jane Eyre' by Charlotte Brontë_

I was having the worst case of deja fucking vu of my life.

Here I was at another house party I didn't particularly want to be at, standing by another wall, with another glass of wine and generally trying to disappear.

When Alice had dropped me off all smiles and fucking rainbows, waving me goodbye with promises to see her later, I had to go inside and break the news to Rosalie. The news being I would be accompanying her and Emmett this evening, where Edward would also be, with a very high likelihood of more verbal vitriol flung between us. However this time I would not be instigating it. I had no idea how I was going to apologize to the man, and quite frankly if he accepted it, then he was the most spineless person I'd ever met. Because my behaviour had been unforgivable.

When I let myself back into the house Emmett was sitting on the sofa watching TV and Rose was in the kitchen cleaning dishes. White dishes of course. And wearing white gloves. I didn't even know you could get them in that colour. One of these days I was going to sit Rose down and ask her directly why nearly everything in this damn house was white.

I cautiously approached the kitchen and stood by the breakfast bar, secure in the knowledge there was a bolted down counter and four stools between Rose and me. I stared at her back for awhile, wondering how to start.

"Is there something you wanted, Bella?" Rose said, never turning or pausing from what she was doing. I jerked in shock but took her opening nonetheless.

"I went shopping with Alice today," I started.

"Is that so?" Rose said with a bored tone that sounded forced due to the slightly too high pitch she ended her statement on.

"Yeah. We, uh, we were having a coffee when Irina came up to us."

"Irina as in Irina who teaches languages at my school Irina?" Rose asked, half turning toward me with a natural look of curiosity on her face.

"Yes, that Irina."

"Oh," Rose answered, turning back to scrubbing her already pristine plate.

"So anyway we were just...chatting. And she… she invited me to her party tonight." I tried to inject some levity to my bland tone, but my mask wouldn't budge and I doubted my success. Rose completely froze in place and I heard the plate slink back into the water with a watery clatter.

"Really? And what did you say?" She sounded like she was also trying for a light tone. Like me, she failed too.

"I said yes," I replied quietly. I looked down and pulled my sleeves over my hands, plucking at the inside of the cuffs. Rose returned to cleaning dishes with gusto.

"Okay, so Emmett and I are leaving around quarter to eight. You're welcome to come with us unless you'd rather drive," she said bitingly.

"I'll come with you, thank you."

"That's fine" was her dismissive answer.

I turned to leave, wanting to go hide in my room until it was time to leave. Anything to avoid the wrath of Rosalie. She could bottle it, sell it to scorned women everywhere and make millions. But just as I was crossing the threshold from the kitchen to the living room, I suddenly walked into the human blockade that was Emmett.

"Whoa. Sorry, Bells," Emmett said as he put a heavy hand on my shoulder to steady me. "What's this I hear about you coming with us tonight?" A grin spread across his face.

"Oh yeah, well Irina invited me so..." I trailed off, trying to shrug nonchalantly. A difficult thing to do with Emmett's hand that weighed about the same as a small child on my shoulder.

"That's great!" Emmett said enthusiastically, but I could see some hesitation in his eyes. I waited patiently for him to say what was his mind, my face empty as always.

"You know Edward will be there, right?" His eyes were concerned and his grin vanished.

_I'm counting on it, buddy, _I thought to myself.

I nodded to Emmett instead.

"It's okay. I promise to behave myself," I told Emmett. A crash of dishes made me turn around, not before I saw Emmett's eyebrows shoot up in alarm as he looked behind me. Rose had dropped one of the bowls she was putting on the draining board, subsequently the carefully stacked dishes had collapsed. Rose, instead of trying to build her house of dishes back up, was staring at me with that gorgon's glare again. Her arms were crossed but I could see her glove clad fists were clenched tightly. I almost turned to run away from the intensity of her stare before remembering I'd been turned to stone.

"Just make sure you _do_ behave yourself, Bella. Because if you embarrass me tonight I will _never _forgive you, do you understand me?" Her voice was cold and full of fury. Never had she more resembled a harpy than in that moment.

I nodded sharply at her, edged my way around Emmett and swept upstairs, leaving hurt and mistrust in my wake.

I worked in the remaining hours before I needed to get ready. I toyed with the idea of not getting changed but I didn't want to push Rose beyond her limit. I'm sure the veins in her head would explode if she saw me go in jeans, a ratty old t shirt and converses. Although my outfit change wasn't too far off.

I finished up Capricorn's fate for the coming week and turned off my laptop. Spinning around in my chair, I got up and padded over to the closet. Sliding open the door, I stood up on my tiptoes to pull down a t-shirt. It was old, faded and huge. It also had a massive Guns n' Roses emblem on it. I took off my shirt, jeans, converses and socks so I was just in my underwear. I pulled the baggy t shirt over my head, folding the sleeves up so they rested just over my shoulders. The hem fell over my thighs, my behind barely covered. I used to wear this shirt with tights or leggings, but not feeling quite comfortable with that idea now, I pulled out some black skinny jeans from the depths of my closet and slid into them. I was mildly surprised to find they weren't quite as snug as they used to be. I pulled out a pair of patent ballet style pumps, the nicest pair of shoes I owned and put those on too. I stepped in front of my mirror, noting that my hair was hanging limply and straggly around my shoulders. When blow dried, it was dead straight. When left to dry naturally, it had a slight wave to it and formed a frizzy halo to my pale face. Not wanting to have to push thick knotty tendrils out of my face all evening I began the aching task of french plaiting my hair. It took ten minutes for my hair that fell way past my shoulder blades to be in a firm ridge in the centre of my head that followed the path of my spine and my arms burnt with exertion by the end.

I contemplated my reflection. This was the most dressed up I'd been in a while. My hair was well out of my face and my complexion was as startlingly white as ever, with the exception of pale purple shadows under my eyes. My cheekbones were sharp, I'd lost my plump cheeks and there were hollows beginning to develop. My mouth and eyes looked huge in my thin face, with my eyebrows appearing as severe lines that outlined my lifeless eyes. I felt like a mockery, my face so vacant it made the effort I'd put into my outfit a sham. I was just about to tear off my beloved Guns n' Roses shirt and put on the shirt I'd been wearing earlier when a forceful knock on my door alerted me to the fact it was time to go. The door opened without my 'open sesame,' revealing a done up Rose. Her face was carefully painted, her hair scrupulously arranged in perfect curls and her body adorned in a beautifully modest deep purple wrap around dress. She looked like a goddess gracing mere mortals with her presence, and for the first time in my life I was glad my sister's unearthly beauty outshone me to such an extent no one would notice how I looked. Or would care.

Upon the opening of the door, her face was carefully prepared in an expression of nonchalance. However when she saw me, shock spread across her divine features, carefully sculpted blonde eyebrows lifted, scarlet lips fell open and cherubic cheeks stretched. I turned toward her awkwardly, wondering what caused her change in expression. I was about to tell her I was ready when she said, "You changed."

"Of course," I replied, my hurt surprise not revealed by my blank voice. "I'm ready to go now." I ducked my head away from her intense stare and grabbed my purse, a small black bag with a long strap that I put across my body. I walked toward the door but Rose was still watching me. "What?" I asked, wishing fervently I could have said it in an accusing and defensive tone, not one void of all emotion.

"Nothing. Sorry, I just... I haven't seen you in that shirt for a long time," she replied hastily.

"Yeah ... well ... I thought I'd wear it now." I shrugged.

"You always wore it when you wanted to feel confident." Her voice sounded confused. My eyes darted back to her quickly.

"What?" Her reply startled me.

"I noticed that whenever I saw you wear it, which I admit wasn't often due to me not seeing you often enough, you wore it to boost your self esteem," she explained in a calmer tone.

"How... what makes you think that?" I stumbled over the words, the only hint to my confusion.

"You used to wear it if you were going somewhere you didn't know well or..." She looked at the door and started running her fingers over the edge, her eyes avoiding me.

"Or what?" I urged.

"Or if you needed to confront Mom about something." Her voice had grown so quiet I could barely hear it. I realized I'd been leaning slightly toward her as my back straightened with the shock of her statement. I felt like an electric current zapped through me, and not in a good way.

"We'd better get going, I know you hate being late" was the only answer she got from me and the only answer I wanted to give her.

I started toward her and, finally getting the hint, she backed out of my doorway. I followed her down the stairs, leaving my door ajar. Emmett was waiting for us by the front door, wearing black slacks and a black button down, his hand extended out for Rose. She was walking in front of me, obstructing me from Emmett's view, so when she reached his hand and his side he saw me and the smile on his face grew. It disconcerted me and if I was able to blush I would have. That was an emotional response I didn't miss.

"You look really nice, Bella," Emmett said genuinely.

"Thanks," I muttered, shifting my gaze around the floor.

"Come on, Em, or we'll be late." I looked up to see Rose looking at Emmett as though in warning and nudging him to turn around and open the door.

We stepped out to a chilly night with bright stars. A deep blue and endless night sky stretched out above us and I looked up at it. I loved nights like these. The air cool and invigorating, it made me feel cleansed. Standing on the doorstep with my face heavenward staring at the white stars above me, breathing in fresh untainted air, I felt more powerful than a hundred exorcisms.

"Bella, come on." Rose's urgent voice drifted through the serene night air toward me and almost in a dream I slipped into the backseat of Rose's Mercedes.

The serenity and peace that I felt disappeared as soon as we arrived and I saw a silver Volvo parked in the street.

Rose found a free space and much sooner than I wished, we were inside the house. It looked bigger than ours outside, but inside it was impossible to tell due to the large amount of people crammed within. Loud and terrible eighties music was playing so I didn't hear Rose tell me they were going to find Irina. I saw her mouthing at me and Emmett giving me a smile but that was it before they disappeared into the jungle of cloth and skin in front of me.

Which led to me standing once more out of the way by a wall at a house party with a wine glass as my only comfort. I hadn't yet spied Alice, and I only caught glimpses or Rose and Emmett as they effortlessly laughed and talked with the mass before me.

The only difference between this party and Rose and Emmett's was that instead of me standing by myself largely forgotten, aside from the occasional enforced mingling Rose had thrust upon me, I was _not_ entirely forgotten.

On the other side of the room I could clearly see, when heads, limbs and torsos parted, the glittering eyes of Edward Cullen firmly fixed upon me. Just as mine were upon him.

I had been standing by the wall for a few minutes when I felt someone looking at me. I craned my head around trying to see who. It was only until the crowd parted in front of me I saw him. He was dressed in a pale blue button down and dark slacks. His silver glasses were perched on his face, but a hand reached up to take them off as I looked steadily at him. He was staring at me intently as though he was seeing to the very core of me, and even when the crowd joined together once more and we were both partially obscured from the other, I knew his gaze did not waver, just as mine didn't.

So I stood there feeling uncomfortable, vulnerable and in a really weird staring game that I didn't know the rules to.

Yet our connection made me feel like my anchor was out there somewhere, in the swirling ocean of bodies in front of me. As long my eyes did not leave Edward's then I wouldn't fall into the depths before me.

But my eyes did leave Edwards. They were forced to.

Suddenly I wasn't looking into clear and sharp green eyes, but bleary red-rimmed brown ones. The man in front of me was swaying, he was grinning widely exposing large teeth and his eyes devoured me, greedily taking in as much of my face and body as they could. He swayed nearer to me and bent down to talk in my ear, but I cringed away from him. He was holding a cup of beer in his hand and if one drop of it got anywhere near my beloved shirt I was gonna tear his fucking balls off.

"D-did it hurt?" he slurred out, leaning back with a lazy smile on his face as he surveyed me with half closed eyes.

"What?" I sneered at him, slightly confused and wondering how the hell to get away from him. He leaned back toward me, putting a hand out on the wall beside my head, which forced me to press as far into the wall as I could. I tried to sidle away from him but he dropped his cup of beer, leaving it to splash out on the carpet and put his other hand on the other side of my head. The splash of ice cold beer on the tops of my feet caused me to squeal and I jumped slightly.

He chuckled and leant down to my ear once more. "Wh- when you fell... from heaven." I would have rolled my eyes, kneed him in the balls and gotten the fuck away to find Emmett, who I'm sure would have finished the guy off. However after he finished his pathetic attempt to get in my pants, he licked my cheek. Not a little teasing one, oh no, but one that resembled a dog. He flattened his tongue and licked all the way up my cheek. His body moved closer and I felt one of his hands go to my hip, while the other gripped my wrist.

I started shaking and turned my head away from him. I closed my eyes but I could feel his hot body damp with sweat covering mine. The stench of beer and perspiration was engulfing me and I couldn't breathe. All I could think was _too close...too close... too close._ I felt a hand grab my head roughly and jerk my head to face forwards again, my eyes flew open and the drunk bastard who had me pinned against a wall bent his head down toward me once more. Talking, however, was not what he had planned. His thin lips pursed to kiss me, but they were partially open so I could see his teeth and tongue poking out. Still shaking and gasping, I felt liquid fill up my eyes and tried to push him away with my only free hand. I was panicking and couldn't catch my breath, my flight or fight instinct was kicking in and I was desperately trying to fly.

But he was getting closer and he was stronger than me, I tightly shut my eyes and gritted my teeth, my head kept firmly in place. Just when I thought his overbearing scent, proximity and general presence was going to crush me, he was suddenly gone. I opened my eyes to see Edward had ripped the guy off me and flung him to the ground. Edward's teeth were bared, his chest thrust forward and his hands in fists. He towered over the excuse of humanity on the floor before darting forward and pulling him violently to his feet by his collar with surprising strength.

"Get the fuck away from her or I will kill you," he snarled into the terrified drunk's face. He immediately let go of the guy's shirt by which he was holding him and turned to me. I was frozen and still trying to breath, I could hear my teeth chattering together. His eyes were black with fury but I wasn't afraid of him. Our eyes were connected again and he was my anchor once more.

In one stride he was in front of me with his hands cupping my shoulders gingerly, he crouched slightly so we were eye level before picking me up and carrying me away. I shivered in his arms as haggard breaths left and entered my body. Tears were running freely down my face and my limbs were locked in place. I had no idea where he was taking me but I was more than willing to go wherever it was. As long as it was away from the foul pervert that licked me and Edward stayed with me.

A door opened, a light clicked on and I was turned in Edward's arms so I was sitting on a hard surface and facing him. His arms never left me, they moved to wrap around my shoulders and back. I looked into his eyes once more and if I wasn't a hyperventilating mess, I would have sighed in relief.

"Bella, you have to breathe," he ordered me, his face stern and serious. His eyes were worried.

I tried to, I frantically tried to regulate the air leaving and entering my lungs but the panic that I would never be able to, the fear I'd never be able to catch my breath and would pass out or worse blocked my control. Edward's hand moved to gently cup my face. "I'm going to count and you breath in on my count, alright?" I nodded dumbly as I wheezed, my throat dry and aching.

"One." I forced myself to inhale. I barely caught it.

"Two." I tried again.

"Three." And again.

"Four." And again.

Edward moved closer to me, stepping in between my parted thighs and moved one hand to my chest so his palm was flat in the centre of my breastbone.

"Five." His voice sounded strangled and I saw the worry spill from his eyes to cover not only his face but his entire posture. He gripped me tightly with one hand across my shoulders, the other started to push against my chest when I needed to exhale. He continued counting and I finally began to inhale on the number and exhale when he pushed against me. I gradually calmed, the tracks of my tears dried and my body grew heavy with lethargy. I slumped forward and my forehead rested against Edward's chest. He removed his hand from my chest and placed it on my back, hugging me lightly to him and I heard him sigh.

I lifted my head tentatively and looked up at him. Sensing my movement he looked down at me with soft eyes. The green in them shone the lightest I'd ever seen them. He pulled a hand away from my back and caressed the cheek not tainted by the saliva of the scumbag with the back of his hand.

"Thank you." My voice came out hushed and my throat burned, protesting being used.

"You're welcome," he answered with a small smile, our eyes locked together. I was tied safely to my anchor. Things were different between Edward and I. I wasn't sure how or when it happened, but it did. I looked into the beautiful sparkling eyes of a man who made me feel safe and comforted without me knowing how. He looked back into mine and I could only wonder what he was thinking. He started caressing my cheek with his palm, and then moved to hold it entirely. But his grip was not rough and it was not unwanted. I moved my left hand to place on his forearm, while my right hand moved to his chest, above his heart. I could feel strong muscle and a strong beat through my fingers and I unconsciously straightened my back a little and leant forward sightly. My face was tilted up to him, his tilted down to me. I felt a pull in my ribcage, like a string being pulled and like Edward was being pulled by the same string, we began to slowly move toward each other.

My eyes never moved from his, his never moved from mine. As far as I was concerned we were the only two people in existence. I felt all my cares and worries melt away in Edward's arms.

Until I heard the slamming of a toilet lid and the sound of someone puking their fucking guts up into the toilet behind Edward.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it, I know it's been a long time coming. Thanks for reading.  
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**Reviews are better than awesome Guns n' Roses t shirts. Thats how good they are.  
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	11. Now For Something Completely Different

**A/N: EPOV IS UP! Yes I've finally posted it, please go check it out if you want to hear from Edward's perspective of things. Oh and to those who have already read it, it was not meant to be in italics all the way through, only a very specific recurring word was meant to be.**

**Thanks to my wonderful beta this story now has a thread over on twilighted!!!!!! The link is on my profile and I really hope to see you guys over there!**

**Thank you to cdunbar for being her awesome self and constantly reassuring and supporting me. And thank you to JeNnNn for making such amazing graphics.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, 'Jane Eyre' belongs to Charlotte Bronte and 'And Now For Something Completely Different' belongs to Monty Python.**

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11. And Now For Something Completely Different

_' "My little friend! I wish I were in a quiet island with only you; and trouble, and danger, and hideous recollections removed from me." '_

_Mr Rochester~ Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë_

I was sitting on a counter in Irina's bathroom with a man standing between my legs, my head tilted up to him, his down to me and our noses centimetres away. The air was humming with tension between us and the other person in the room currently evacuating the contents of their stomach into the toilet bowel was doing nothing to ease said tension.

_What the hell am I doing?_

I immediately lowered my eyes from Edward's searching gaze and retracted my hands from his chest and arm to rest in my lap. I felt warmth spread up my cheeks, a warmth I had not felt in a very long time. To my utter horror I was now blushing like a fucking schoolgirl. Staring down I heard Edward clear his throat. He removed his hand from my cheek, the other from my back and placed it on my elbow.

"Let us relocate to the kitchen; it's quieter and more private there," Edward murmured into my ear. I nodded and he helped me down from the counter top. I left the bathroom with Edward's firm grip on my arm and my eyes cast down. I watched the milky white of the tops of my feet flash as I walked and refused to let them stray anywhere else.

We walked down a hallway, passing people here and there, but we would have to fight our way through the claustrophobia inducing living room to reach the kitchen. As we stepped into the fleshy jungle, I tipped up my head to look ahead and felt Edward's hand travel down from my elbow and slide into a firm grip in mine. I didn't shake him off. Instead, I looked up at him. _My_ _Anchor._

Edward moved ahead of me and pulled me behind him using his free hand to carve a way through the heaving, fluid waves of people around us. The room was sweltering and I felt my face grow red with the heat, sweat prickling over my body. My throat was dry and felt like it was cracking, I was desperate for water. Edward fought our way through, looking back at me occasionally and jerking me out of the way of flailing limbs and enthusiastic dancers. I just kept my eyes on him and my hand in his.

Finally reaching the kitchen without incident, Edward closed the door behind us. Seeing no need for it now I gently relinquished his grasp on my hand and stood there, looking nervously up at him and feeling.... conflicted. Something had shifted between us. We had somehow and inexplicably formed a connection, whether for betteror worse I did not know. On the one hand I felt secure around him, unburdened in some way. The ever present weight in my chest became slightly more bearable, the ache less galling. Yet on the other I was ashamed, embarrassed and incredibly uncomfortable.

I decided to go with awkward.

"Do you know where the glasses are?" My voice sounded raspy and my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.

Edward stood in a stoic position, regarding me with cautious eyes and crossed arms.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. Maybe there's one in the dishwasher?" he replied, nodding his head in the direction of the dishwasher.

I opened it, found a small tumbler that appeared clean and filled it with tap water. I drank the water greedily and refilled it. I looked around at Irina's kitchen. The décor suggested she was going for homely farmhouse. Whether she succeeded or not was down to personal taste I supposed. Edward was standing by the kitchen door, looking studiously at me. His constant focused stare was not helping me relax.

"Do you mind if we closed the door?" I asked, inclining my head toward the open kitchen door. He responded by wordlessly closing it, then returned to his stiff stance. I went to sit down at the kitchen table. Edward could stand by the door all evening staring at me if he wanted but I needed to sit down. My drunken assault induced panic attack left me with weakened nerves, and my body feeling heavy and cumbersome. I slumped into the chair and cradled my glass between my hands. I stared down at how the light of the kitchen lamp was softly reflected in my water, momentarily mesmorized.. I heard him walk over, followed by the scrape of wood on floor tiles. I looked up to see Edward sitting across from me. He was leaning on his elbows with his hands clasped before him, his body tilted toward me and his eyes downcast. His silver framed glasses were peeking out of his shirt's chest pocket, the light winking off of them and reflecting a shine onto the shadowed wall the table was set against.

The music from the living room thumped through the wall and laughter, singing and shouting could be heard. But Edward and I were in our own little bubble. Encased within our own small world. We could not go back from tonight. Edward had saved me and cared for me once again.

My inner feminist was currently rolling her eyes and throwing Germaine Greer books at me. I hated his white knight act too, but my gratitude was far stronger.

I sighed and shifted in my seat, which made Edward look up at me.

"Thank you, for... back there," I said quietly, my throat no longer burning.

"Not at all," he replied. We both returned our eyes to the tabletop.

"I'm sorry." I couldn't look up. For what I needed to say I couldn't look at him. I was a coward. A humble one. But still a coward.

"For what you said last night?" I heard him say. He had a strong and clear voice. There was a power behind it that mine lacked.

"Not just last night." I moved my hands from my glass to under the table where I twisted the hem of my t-shirt between my fingers. So much for giving me strength.

"The other times as well," I added.

"What do you mean?" I closed my eyes at the harder edge his voice had taken in that one question.

"All those times we argued, it was... it was intentional." I hung my head.

"Why?" The word sounded like it had been ground out between his teeth.

"The first time we argued, after I walked in on you and Tanya. That was the first night I slept soundly in a very long time." I propped an elbow on the tabletop, resting my forehead in my palm. My eyes were still tightly closed. "I have bad dreams. Every night. And then during the day I hide behind my walls, hurting the people foolish enough to love me. But after that first night, when I woke up… It was the nearest I'd felt to alive in eleven months.

It was because of you. My anger at you released some of my anger at my self and gave me some inner peace. But I abused it, I abused you." My voice was wavering and I curled the hand in my lap around my waist. Hugging myself in the vain attempt I would not fall to pieces.

I lifted my forehead from my palm and looked up at Edward. He sat with his hands splayed flat against the table top, pressing firmly down. His torso leant forwards and his eyes were burning. I couldn't look away.

"Let me understand you. Every time we have met, excluding the first, you would intentionally begin an argument with me. You would purposefully flare my temper using any means necessary so that you could sleep well at night?" he asked demandingly. I nodded slowly, my eyes still locked with his.

He suddenly jerked his body back in his chair and covered his face with his hands.

"Are you aware how twisted that is?" His voice came out muffled.

"Yes" was my hoarse reply. I let my hand fall to the table and cup my glass once more as I watched the light glint off of it.

"And you have decided to stop, hence the apology?" he asked with his face still beneath his hands.

"Yes." I looked nervously up.

"And what am I to do with this apology?" He removed his hands and rested them on the table once more. His face was drawn, his forehead creased and his eyes sad. I could see grey hairs around his temples, hidden amongst the bronze and the dark earthy brown.

"I don't know," I whispered. He sighed and shook his head gently.

"I feel angry, but I know my own behaviour as well." He lightly ran his thumb along the grain of the wood with his left hand, his wedding ring flashing in a dim glow.

"What do you mean?" I cocked my head to the side and my eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

"I am not without faults," he answered. A snort escaped me before I could stop myself. He smiled wryly before looking down at his thumb skimming back and forth over the table.

"I have a.... sour nature, I suppose you could say. I let my temper get the better of me and I tend to take it out on those around me. Last night I was angry over the pathetic excuse of a play those mindless infants performed. I saw you smiling and well... jumped to conclusions. I suppose I made it easy for you," he said with a small smile, which contrasted with the sadness in his dark eyes.

"You did," I replied, nodding, "but I went too far. I swear I did not mean to say that, when I was talking of karma. Your wife and mother completely slipped my mind." At the mention of his wife and his mother Edward stopped his tactile exploration of the table and clenched his fist and jaw. A cloak of silence fell over us, one that was heavy and cloying. I desperately wanted to shrug it off but it clung close to us. And it bound us.

"Where do we go from here?" Edward finally whispered.

"I don't know," I returned with a shrug, my voice as quiet as his. There was a quick flash in Edward's eyes and a slight smile tugged at one side of his mouth.

"So tell me, Bella. What is it you do for a living?" His tone was light, almost teasing, his forehead was smooth and the corners of his eyes were uncreased. I smiled and leant my cheek in my palm, looking lazily at Edward at an angle.

"I write false horoscopes and ineffective self help articles," I answered glibly, arching an eyebrow. "How about you, Edward? What is it you do for a living?"

"I teach music to children who have no desire to learn and I have no desire to ensure they do," he said flippantly with a grin, exposing his teeth.

And so we started from the beginning.

We sat at Irina's kitchen table talking about inconsequential trivial topics. We covered where we grew up, where we went to school, our tastes and our hobbies. But all of that wasn't important because none of it revealed the real Edward to me. The question I had asked myself as I sat in front of the two vases of flowers Edward had bought for me -- who was the real Edward Cullen? -- was beginning to finally get an answer. He was not the quiet, private music teacher. He was not the troubled brother, the repentant son or the grieving widow. He was not the drunken exhibitionist pervert.

There wasn't an adjective for him, a statement that summed him up. One thousand pages would not even begin to contain enough information to describe Edward. He was complex, he was transparent. He was the living incarnation of opposites. He would be smiling wickedly one moment while his dark eyes glittered mischievously as he teased me over my love for playing with the cardboard box over the toy it contained when I was nine. The next minute a cloud would pass over his face and his whole body would tense just as he was recalling his first kiss with a girl he would play with after school. I then told him about my disastrous first kiss, which resulted in me falling backwards into dog shit because the boy had taken me by surprise. The cloud passed and he laughed, a clear and roaring laugh that made his wild hair tumble over his forehead as he shook his head.

Our tentative attempt at starting again made me see Edward how he really was, not the version I believed him to be. Or the version I wanted him to be to avoid feeling guilt. I noticed that when he was puzzled he would trace his left eyebrow with his thumb. When I swore he would make a quiet humming noise and his eyes would flicker away from me for a second. I swore three times in one sentence to see what would happen. He scowled and cleared his throat. When he was amused he would squint his eyes slightly and bite the inside of his mouth. When he was lost in thought he would look down at his hands and trace the inside of his cheek with the tip of his tongue.

What he said told me very little about him, but what he did told me everything.

Eventually silence grew between us. But this one allowed us to breath. It did not bear down on us and make us stupid. It was calm and companionable. I had moved my chair so my back was leaning against the wall, my feet propped on the seat and my hands resting on my knees. Edward was leaning back, relaxed into his chair. His large frame made him lean his elbow onto the back of the chair next to him while the other arm rested on the table. We were looking at each other softly, small smiles on our faces. Smiles that made me feel we'd shared our secrets, even though nothing that we shared had alluded to painful memories or events. Edward had not asked me about my dreams or my walls, and I had not asked Edward about his wife or his mother.

"This is not how I thought I would be spending this evening, shut away quietly in Irina's kitchen with you," Edward said with an arched eyebrow and a smile tugging at his lips.

"Me neither. I also wasn't expecting to get licked by some inebriated dickhead," I chuckled. Edward nodded and smiled but not before that noise in his throat made a showing and his eyes darted. Which only made me chuckle more.

"It's been a pleasanter evening than I thought it would be." He looked down at his hand on the table, which was loosely fisted. He rubbed the pads of his thumb and index finger together.

"Me too. You… You took my apology better than I could have ever hoped for," I said hesitantly. Our intimacy and familiarity may have grown but my shame lingered. I drew my clasped hands into my lap and looked down at them.

"How were you expecting me to react?" he asked, a curious tone to his voice. I looked up at him and his head was tilted to one side.

"Honestly?" I asked, moving my arms so I was hugging my legs and my cheek lay on my knees. He nodded and moved slightly forward in his seat.

"I was expecting you to start kicking the shit out of a wall again." He grimaced and looked down. I could see his neck reddening slightly.

"That was my temper getting the best of me," he said, rue lining his voice.

"That was my fault," I said harshly.

"Yes but it's alright. Lest we forget my sins toward you," he said, allowing levity to enter his tone again.

"Oh yes, the forced date," I answered, nodding.

"Yes, that wasn't one of my best moments," he chuckled.

"That shirt wasn't Chanel by the way," I confessed.

"It wasn't?" He lifted a thumb and ran it across his brow.

"No, it was from a JC Penney sale," I said, biting my lip and looking at him warily. His face went blank and a gormless expression formed on his face, then thankfully he threw his head back and laughed heartily. I started giggling too with relief and joy. When he laughed so freely his real age shone through and the years between us did not seem quite so vast.

The kitchen door opened and a dark haired figure tiptoed in. It was Alice, followed by Jasper. Alice was walking backward, her face tipped up to Jasper who she was pulling along with her hands. They were both grinning widely and before I found myself in another awkward situation where I was catching a couple in the act, I cleared my throat. Loudly. I saw Edward smile at me out the corner of my eye. Jasper stood bolt upright and Alice turned sharply in the direction of the noise.

"Bella! You came!" she cried, rushing forward to stand by the table, Jasper abruptly abandoned.

"Of course I did. Hey, Jasper." I smiled at Jasper, having to lean up and peer round Alice.

"Uh, hey, Bella." Jasper held up a hand and nodded sheepishly. Alice turned her head to the quiet figure of Edward, whom she hadn't seen yet because his position put him in more of the shadowy corner of the kitchen.

"Edward! This is where you are!" she exclaimed, her voice going up in pitch. Edward nodded, his face holding no trace of the smiles I had just seen. He moved his elbow off the back of his chair and shifted so he was closer to the wall. Alice went to sit next to him, Jasper next to her.

And so the four of us sat at the round table, each with our own preoccupations. Alice immediately began demanding the details of what the two of us had been doing all night, both separately and together. Edward remained quiet, looking at me so I could divulge what I wanted. Jasper merely sat next to Alice and hung on her every word, his eyes glazing over periodically and he would start swaying lightly. I predicted Alice would be doing the driving home. As Alice began her interrogation, I put my feet on the floor and swivelled so I was facing inwards again. I started to tell her of my encounter with one of Irina's friends and Alice's face showed the adequate levels of disgust and horror. But before I could recount Edward's valiance in rescuing me, the only thing lacking his white charger and drawn sword, Rose stepped through the kitchen door Jasper had neglected to close completely.

At her entrance my façade came slamming down and nothing I could do would stop it. I may have been sitting comfortably and light heartedly talking to my friend, her husband and... Edward only seconds before, but I had not yet learnt to be free with Rose. There was too much unsaid between us, like a maze of misunderstanding and bitter resentment stretching back across the years. Just like most sisters, we had our issues to deal with.

"Oh, Bella. There you are. I've been looking for you for ten minutes," Rose huffed, her face screwed up in irritation. Her elegant dress was crumpled, her beautiful curls falling out and her cheeks were red.

"Sorry, I didn't know," I answered blankly. I saw Alice looking between Rose and I, her lips being worried between her teeth, in the periphery of my vision. Jasper was slumped forward on his elbows.

"Well Emmett and I are ready to go now." Rose raised her eyebrows expectantly at me. Rose always grew impatient when she was hot, so I didn't take her attitude personally.

"Okay." I stood up and turned toward the others at the table. Edward was looking up at me. His forehead was creased and his eyes looked worried and confused. My face was perfectly smooth and I knew my eyes were reflective surfaces with no depth to them whatsoever.

"Goodnight," I directed at them all, distinguishing none of them, but my right hand twitched outwards in a movement so small you'd miss it if you blinked.

Rose bade them all good night also and Alice was the only one who replied. Jasper appeared to have fallen asleep and I could feel Edward's eyes burning into me.

_Don't look too deep._

I followed Rose out of the kitchen. Through the crowd I could make out Emmett standing by the front door, talking to Irina. I followed Rose as once more I was immersed into the convoluting mass of people. But there was no hand to guide me, there was no forged path to follow. I stumbled my way through as I was elbowed and knocked about. I finally made it through to the other side where Rose and Emmett stood by the open front door waiting for me. Irina was no longer there, disappearing into her forest of guests. Emmett smiled down at me and put out his hand, indicating for me to leave before him. I followed Rose out Irina's house, looking back toward the kitchen before I left. Across the divide stood my anchor and I offered a small wave and small smile to a flash of bronze and a glitter of green before stepping out into the open night where I could breathe and be alone.

Standing on the porch I shivered in the night air and couldn't help but long for a quiet kitchen where I spilled out my soul and found I did not bleed in the process.

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**A/N: I'd just like to thank jennday for recommending my story over at the livejournal community the_gazebo. You are all kinds of greatness for doing that! I lost the power of speech for ten minutes after I found out.**

**I've started another story called The Boy in the Cafeteria which is now up, chapter 2 is being written at the moment. Please go check it out, it's very different to TATH though.**

**Also, this story has now reached over 100 reviews!!!!!!! To show you all my immense love for that, and to reassure you TATH will not be neglected now I've started another fic allow me to share a little song with you~**

**To be sung to the tune of 'You Are My Sunshine'**

**'You are my readers, my lovely readers,**

**You make me smi-ile and giggle with glee,**

**I hope you realize how much I love you,**

**So please continue reading my little stor-y!'**

**I hope to see you all over on the thread!!!  
**


	12. Glass Girl and Glass Man

**A/N: I'm so sorry it's been so long, I'm rubbish I know.**

**Oh sometimes ff uploads the chapter in italics, I do go back and change it so if it comes up then just refresh like fifteen minutes later.  
**

**Thank you JeNnN for being my australian counterpart. Thank you to cdunbar for being my most excellant beta. If I it wasn't for these two this chapter would be a blank page.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine, anything Bill Hicks says isn't mine, the chapter title is though for once.  
**

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12. Glass Girl and Glass Man

"_Your denial is beneath you, and thanks to hallucinogenic drugs, I see through you."_

_Bill Hicks_

I was sitting on a cold bench feeling stupid.

Wind was whipping at my hair so that it would fly up into the sky and get caught around my nose and mouth. I was shivering despite wearing a scarf and a jacket while the bright burning sun shining merrily in the sky mocked me.

It was a ridiculous day. A day where nothing made sense and everything negated the other. It was brilliantly sunny, yet there was a fiercely cold wind and my spontaneous breakfast conversation had pissed off Rosalie.

That morning I had come downstairs with a rare feeling of optimism. My sleep the night before had fairly settled. I had dreamt but I couldn't remember of what, which was just fine by me.

Emmett, as usual, was sitting in the living room drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. Rosalie was in the kitchen making a smoothie. It was a typical Sunday morning, except there was one distinct difference.

On this particular Sunday morning I didn't slither into the kitchen with my head down, grab a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal and creep away again like vermin. I walked confidently into the kitchen with my head held high, fully dressed, and sat at the counter with fresh coffee from the pot in my Little Mermaid mug.

Last night's tête a tête with Edward proved to me that I was able to have a normal conversation with my fellow man, and my time spent with Alice proved this also. So far I had been keeping Rose and Emmett at a safe distance to avoid questions. The answers were too painful and frightening, so I preferred keeping them in the closet. But perhaps a marginal opening of the lines of communication would be alright? Thus, with this new perspective in mind, I gingerly cleared my throat and forced a greeting, "Morning, Rose. Did you sleep well?"

The fact my voice came out like I was reading a eulogy and my eyes were fixed upon my hands, which were holding my mug in a death grip, took some of the levity out of my remark. The slicing of fruit stopped and I lifted my eyes. Rose turned around to face me with her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

"Yeah. You?" she replied, staring at me as though I'd named the exact location of the Holy Grail. I nodded whilst I answered, "Yeah, I think so. Although I'm sure you could tell me."

My attempt at a joke flipped a switch in Rose and the eyebrows made a rapid comeback as they fell down her forehead.

"That's not funny. Why would you try and make that funny?" Her voice rose querulously.

_What the......?_

I began to contemplate the possibility Rose was suffering from bipolar disorder and how my parents would take the news that both their daughters were fucked up. I could at least argue it seemed to be hereditary.

"I was just-- I didn't mean to upset you, Rose," I said carefully with a slight shrug of my shoulders. My hands lay idly either side of my mug, palms up, and I instantly drew them into my lap as the image of Jesus in _The Last Supper_ floated into my head.

Rose was looking at me with exasperation and frustration painted across her face, but I simply did not know _why_. If I did, I would try to take it away if I could. She lifted her hands, clawing her fingers through her hair and digging into her scalp.

"Bella, the fact that you try to make this funny...." she trailed off and shrugged. I saw her swallow deeply and her eyes started glistening. I began to panic. I rose out of my seat, the sound harsh as it cut through the air. I darted around the counter and stood in front of her. My hands were awkwardly held up in the air, almost in warning.

"Rose, I'm sorry, I don't understand. Wha-"

She cut me off as her eyes shot up from being fixated on the floor. She glared angrily at me, her eyes still shining. "Exactly, Bella," she hissed. I could see Emmett in the periphery of my vision, hovering behind Rose. But I was frozen in place, in fear, in confusion. I was just trying to start over, to try and talk to my sister. But I had screwed it up and I didn't know _how_. I felt frustration mount inside me. My hands fell to my sides and curled into fists. I looked away to the side and bit my lip savagely. Shaking my head slowly, I released my lip.

"I'm sorry I spoke," I said helplessly, hunching my shoulders.

"Oh for FUCK'S SAKE!" Rose roared. I flinched in shock. My façade splintered, but clung together by fibres. I looked up at her, my face impassive. I knew that, but I'm sure she could read the emotions teeming behind my eyes for she leant toward me, almost as if she was trying to peer into my insides. To see if her sister was in there, in the dark shadowy corners where the spiderwebs and dust had gathered. She slowly straightened with her fingers still fixed in her hair, her eyes less manic and watery. "Just go," she whispered, her voice gentle.

"Go?" I said uncertainly.

"Yes, go. Now." Her voice began to gather strength. "Wherever it is you go on Sundays, go there now. I need some time away from you."

And so I left the house.

Her words were cruel but I didn't feel hurt; she was her mother's daughter after all. I walked to the park I usually went to -- Panfish Park. I would typically sit on a bench and write bits and pieces of whatever came to me. Often based on what I saw around me, although on a Sunday the park was rarely frequented.

However, this particular Sunday I had left the house in a hurry and had no pen or paper with me. So instead, I was sitting on a bench brooding. Which I fucking hated doing because brooding could lead to the other thing and I really didn't want that to happen.

The sun reflecting off the lake was shining right in my eyes and I had to squint as I looked about me. The park was largely empty as far as I could tell, with the occasional jogger or cyclist passing by. Then there was the token old man reading a newspaper a few benches down the path. I had no idea why but there was _always_ an old man reading a newspaper in a park on a Sunday morning.

I decided to wander down to the lake because I felt myself getting irritated and the cold spreading up my body from the frigid bench wasn't helping. The very fact that I could feel the cold told me how much my confrontation with Rose had gotten to me. My mask was coming away in pieces and I was struggling to catch them all.

I meandered down to the water's edge and stared down into its murky depths. Ripples of light danced across the surface and the water was a perfect blue as it reflected the sky above. I began to slowly walk alongside the bank, staring down at the grass. As I walked I allowed my mind to empty, tranquillity falling around me and enveloping me. I reached the cover of a tree and stopped once I noticed I was under its shadow.

I looked up and saw sitting under the tree by the dark tree trunk the biggest fucking dog I had ever seen in my life. It was a silky silver colour and sat bolt upright, its tongue flopping on one side of its mouth while it panted and held its ears at attention. It was staring right at me and I found myself staring right back. A voice at the back of my head told me that you should never ever look a dog in the eye. That they find it intimidating and once you make eye contact, whoever looks away first accedes to the dominance of the other. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and my skin prickle. Fear was creeping over me and I had to look away. I darted my gaze down to the ground and realised to my shame I had just acknowledged that a dog was more dominant than me. Even if that dog was the size of a fucking lion. Two paws appeared in my field of vision and I looked up to see the dog was standing in front of me. A thick brown leather colour around its neck and I could see the pink tongue hanging from its mouth dripping saliva from the tip. Before I could move it suddenly reared up on its hind legs. Its front paws came crashing down on my shoulders and I was now face to face with it. I tilted my head back because I really didn't want to get licked again. The weight of the dog was staggering and I could feel my knees bend, so I tied to pry its paws off me but they weren't budging. The dog was panting heavily and staring right at me once more. I turned my head away and peered at it from the corner of my eye.

"Clair, down!" a voice commanded. Suddenly the dog lifted its paws from me and spiralled gracefully away from me. I looked up with a start, and to my disgust, a blush, when I saw Edward Cullen standing in front of me. The dog, or Clair as it appeared to be called, padded away from me and went to sit next to Edward. Its head grazed just below Edward's chest.

With a light frown creasing his forehead and wrinkling his eyes, a book hung from one hand and his glasses in another, Edward stood looking at me. In concern or alarm, I couldn't tell which.

A million thoughts ran through my mind, but the most inane one decided to voice itself.

"That thing is called Clair?" I asked in disbelief, pointing at the monstrous dog. Edward burst out a rapid laugh and lifted his thumb to his forehead as he ran it back and forth, looking down at Clair.

"Yes, he is," he said, nodding and looking back up to me.

"He?" I lowered my hand and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Yes, he," he said slowly with a twitch of his mouth and a squint of his eyes.

"Why the hell did you call your male dog Clair?" I cocked my head to the side, blinking slightly from the sun that reflected off his glasses lenses into my face.

"I didn't. He was a present from Alice. She called him that," he replied, tucking the glasses into his shirt pocket.

"Oh well that explains everything," I said flippantly with a wry smile.

"It's short for Clair de Lune," he qualified.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need more than that Edward." I made a rotating motion with my hand and leant forward slightly, directing a pointed look at Edward.

He motioned for us to go and sit under the shade of the tree, where the unfortunately named dog had just been sitting. I made sure Edward sat between us.

"She bought him for me when I came back and called him Clair de Lune because she likes me to play that piece. I shortened it to Clair. Which yes, I agree is still terrible, but it's the best I could do," Edward explained matter of factly, one leg stretched out the other tucked near his body. His arm rested on the knee of the folded leg, the book hanging loosely from his hand. Edward sat with his body tilted toward me and Clair settled down beside him, staring gloomily across the park.

"I thought you got back six months ago though? What do you feed him? Steroids?"

Edward lowered his head to the floor chuckling as he did so.

"No, Clair was already a year old when I got him," he said with a slight shake of his head.

"Is he a Great Dane?" I asked. It was the only breed I could think of that approached his size.

"Somewhere along the line I would say," Edward replied, turning to look at Clair as well. "Although, I think he might be part Newfoundland," he added.

"But his fur is so short."

"I get it cut regularly. He was a mop of straggly fur when I got him." Edward turned back to me and I withdrew my eyes from Clair to look up at Edward. He was smiling at me tentatively. I folded my legs up and hugged them to my body, giving him a small smile in return. I noticed the book still hooked on his index finger trapped between the pages.

"You like Kafka?" I asked him, gesturing at the book with my finger as my other hand wrapped around my wrist.

"Yes, he's good. You've read his work?" Edward turned more toward me and Clair flicked an ear at the movement.

"Yes, some." I angled my head so my ear hovered above my knees.

"What did you like about him?" he asked in a demanding tone. I felt like I was back at college.

"Uh-- well, I like the way he writes his characters. The majority of them are flawed, even cruel, yet he never judges them. And you pity them, rather than hate them," I replied slowly as I contemplated my answer.

"Really? You pity Gregor Samsa's family? You pity the officer in 'In the Penal Colony'?" he asked me with amusement, his left cheek sucked in as he bit the inside of it.

"The Samsas discover their son has turned into a giant beetle-like creature and their source of income has been lost! So yes, I pity them. Their behaviour toward Gregor was cruel at times but they didn't know how much of Gregor was left. They thought he was gone forever," I said, my voice rising in my defence.

"What of his sister? She was supposed to look after him but neglected him. Even if he was merely a giant beetle, he was still a living creature. Does that make her starving him forgivable?" He dropped the book to the grassy floor and I saw he had been reading 'The Castle'.

"No, of course not. But I still pity her. Her expectations in life had been torn away from her and she couldn't help her feelings of anger toward Gregor. Her behaviour was reprehensible but she loved him still. She was young and she cried when he died." I relaxed my gasp from my legs and shifted my body toward Edward, putting one hand flat on the ground to lean on.

"So she should! What of the father?" he said imperiously.

"Yes, he was the cruellest. But he was a working class man who was brought up in an era where you worked for an honest wage and abided by God. He was proud of Gregor for being so hard working, and once Gregor no longer fulfilled his role, he lost his father's respect." I lowered my bent legs to rest on the ground. Clair had fallen asleep and I could see a paw twitching as he dreamt.

"Very loving of him," Edward said bitterly, looking away toward the lake.

"I don't defend him, but he mourned Gregor's death as well." I pointed my hand toward Edward, the palm skyward.

"His mother was the only one who cared for him." A mulling quality entered his voice.

"Mothers and sons," I agreed, nodding.

He cleared his throat. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, realising my words. I waited for him to speak.

"What of the officer, though? Showing glee at the gruesome and unnecessarily painful death of another man?" he said brusquely, looking back at me once more.

"True, but he was the one who died in the end," I pointed out, shifting my weight off my hand as it had began to ache. Choosing to sit in a similar position to Edward.

"Hoisted by his own petard," he said wryly.

"Voluntary sacrifice I thought," I said with a slight grin.

"And what was his cause?" He quirked his eyebrow, that smile of his on his face again, where it tugged at one corner of his mouth.

"He merely wanted to show the explorer the meaning of the machine. The poetry of dying by it. He believed that the machine would give you enlightenment, that you would truly understand and repent your sins," I explained, my hands moving as I spoke.

"But he didn't. The explorer says the look on the officer's face once he was dead was the same he wore when he was alive. He died for nothing. He was a follower of the last Commandant and found himself in the minority. He killed himself because was sickened by the new Commandant's regime. His cause wasn't noble, he was a sadistic fascist," Edward stated with a finality to the tone of his voice.

"You've just disproved your own argument. In that case you should pity him if his death meant nothing," I said triumphantly with a grin.

"I understand your point but I cannot pity characters with so little compassion for their fellow man, who get delight from seeing a man get carved to pieces by needles for twelve hours straight," he said adamantly, shaking his head.

"Well that is up to you. I pity them only because they _are_ pitiable. Their actions are wrong and the reader knows they are wrong," I said decisively, nodding my head a little and leaning back.

Edward chuckled quietly at my words.

"I never thought I would be discussing Kafka with you in the park today." He flicked that tugging smile at me and looked down at his book, which was now abandoned on the ground.

"Me neither. I didn't expect to ever discuss Kafka with someone," I replied honestly, looking down at the book also.

"What do you mean?" His voice sounded almost concerned.

"Well, I just don't really have someone who shares my literary tastes or interests." I shrugged.

"Oh, I see. Well I suppose, now you do." I looked up at him. He seemed sincere. He lifted his head to see my reaction and I just nodded dumbly.

"So do you usually come here on a Sunday?" I asked, steering the conversation away from more debates. I hadn't used my intellect in a long time. It felt strange and I needed to adjust.

"No, Clair ran off. I tracked him down here and decided to leave him to run around, seeing as he appeared to like it so much for some reason." He lifted his thumb to run along his left eyebrow as he looked out at the park. The breeze lifted his hair from his forehead.

"Oh," I replied, watching his hair fly and glint fire in the sunlight.

"Do you?" He turned to me and I dropped my eyes from his hair to his face.

"Yes, sometimes."

"Why?" He frowned slightly questioningly.

"Well, I like it here. I sometimes come here to write if I feel too claustrophobic at home," I mused.

"Or to think," he added, a slight lift at the end of the sentence.

"No, not to think." My tone dropped.

Edward narrowed his eyes in confusion at me, and he opened his mouth to reply but I really didn't want him to pursue that line of enquiry. I cut him off, my voice sounding urgent.

"So where did Clair run off from?"

"Oh, uh home," he said distractedly.

"Huh. How did you know he'd come here? Follow the screams?" I asked teasingly. He chuckled.

"No, I just followed after him. I don't live far anyway."

"Wow, you must run fast," I taunted.

"Oh no, I was on my bike," he replied seriously and I realised he hadn't picked up on my joke.

"So where did the book come from?" I asked, imagining him cycling whilst trying to hold onto the book he'd run out the house carrying.

"It was in one of the saddle bags," he explained.

I nodded slowly, looking around me and across the open green of the park.

Time had crept on and Edward seemed to sense it also. I darted a look at him. We both began to stand at the same time. He gently prodded Clair with the toe of his shoe.

"Come on, Beast. Time to go." he said, with fondness I hoped.

Clair opened his eyes and slowly made his way to his feet. He ambled up to me and thrust his nose into my hand, causing me to stumble back slightly. Edward laughed and I looked at him nervously before looking back at Clair as he worked his head under my hand. I started to stroke his huge head. His fur was soft and fine. I bent to my knees and cupped his face in both my hands scratching under his ears. I could feel him lean into my hands more.

"Perhaps you aren't so bad. Just don't lick me," I said sternly. He closed his eyes in response. After a few more seconds of lavishing attention on Clair's ears my fingers began to tingle from the oils in his skin and hair. I withdrew my hands and stood, Clair promptly wandered off. I opened my mouth to say something but Edward calmly said, "He's just going to my bike."

"Oh, he's very well trained," I said lamely.

"Yes, well… I took him to training in the very beginning and I grew up with guard dogs." He replied dismissively. I nodded, crossing my arms in front of me and looking down at the toes of my converses.

"Well I'll see you at Alice's later then," he said. I started and looked up.

"Alice's?"

"Yes, she called me this morning and said she's invited you and Rose and Emmett over for dinner tonight at her house," he explained, his thumb tracing his left eyebrow in confusion.

"I haven't heard about this." My voice rose, and I tried not to feel the pangs of hurt and doubt in my chest.

"She said she spoke to Rose this morning," he said reassuringly.

"Oh." I then remembered why I wouldn't have heard of Alice's invitation.

"Did Rose not tell you?" He cocked his head, steel under laid his tone.

"No, well she probably forgot. We had a minor altercation in the kitchen this morning," I said with a false light tone.

"Ah. Well you are most definitely invited for dinner at Alice's tonight, around seven," he said with a flourish, his voice lightening considerably.

"Okay, I'll be there." I giggled slightly at his act of charm.

"Good." The earnestness in that one word made my cheeks feel hot. I felt uncomfortable and stepped back from Edward slightly. He saw my reaction and cocked his head. I gave him a tight smile and began walking up the slope to rejoin the path.

"I'll see you later," I said, walking backwards and giving him a small wave.

"Yes, see you later." He was frowning and one hand clutched his book to his chest while the other hid in his pocket. I turned and followed the path out of the park.

The wind was still cold and harsh and the sun still blazed. But the further from Edward I walked, the less affect they had on me. With each step I assembled my mask. With each step I eased myself into my suit of armour and I walked home under the weight of it all.

I was delicate under my armour and Edward had seen this. But he was delicate too. Our morning discussion led me to think we were embarking on a friendship. Last night I had felt tied to him. I had referred to him as my anchor.

I only hoped he wouldn't make me drown.

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**A/N: Okay for those of you not familiar with Franz Kafka's work and wondering what the hell Edward and Bella were talking mini summary follows. For those who are or don't care thank you for reading, I hope you check out the thread and review. Although I really don't deserve it.**

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Franz Kafka: Jewish writer from Prague in the early twentieth century.  
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**The Metamorphosis: Short story about a salesman called Gregor Samsa waking up one morning to discover he has turned into a giant beetle like creature. He supported his family and the loss of his wages forced the family to drastically alter their life resulting in much resentment towards Gregor. They also were uncertain how intelligent he was, how much humanity remained. He was treated badly by his father and neglected by his sister who was in charge of looking after him. He blamed himself for their unhappiness and decided to starve himself to death, no one ensured he ate. He eventually dies as a result and of an infected wound in his back from where his father threw an apple at him and it festered.**

**In The Penal Colony: Short story about an explorer visiting a penal colony to give his opinion on how it could be modernized. The story focuses on the apparatus that executes the prisoners and the officer who maintains it. He is loyal to the last Commandant who designed it, not his successor who invited the explorer. The machine inscribes script on the body of the prisoner relating to his crime for twelve hours, the body gets rotated. The needle that writes basically tears the body to pieces and the prisoner dies as a result. The officer believes after six hours the prisoner is enlightened on their crime and enters a spiritual state, they truly repent. The explorer is horrified and the officer seeing the machine will be destroyed decides he would rather die at the hands of the machine than see it made redundant and a new method introduced. The explorer cannot see a look of enlightenment on the officers face after six hours, he looks just the same.**

**Wikipedia probably shows a better summary and forgive any inaccuracies, I don't have my copy of Kafka's stories with me at the moment. Hope it helped anyway.**

**Thank you for reading.  
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	13. Fear My Mirror Pain Is Cracking

**A/N: Finally an update! I'm so sorry, but the next one should be up early next week. It ran on.**

**Thank you cdunbar for betaing this in like an hour! You are too good!**

**Thank you jennday for loving this story and pimping it over on the gazebo where you can discuss updates if you want.**

**OH and I have important announcements, but read the chapter first!**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and The Clash own White Riot**

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13. Fear (My Mirror Pain is Cracking)

_'Are you taking over_

_Or are you taking orders?_

_Are you going backwards_

_Or are you going forwards?'_

_White Riot by The Clash_

By the time I returned home I was covered in scales of impenetrable steel and prepared to face whatever Rose chose to throw at me, whether she would simply ignore me, or use snide looks and comments to show her displeasure. I was prepared for all; confident the barbs would glance off my armour and float harmlessly to the floor like feathers.

Yet it all proved unnecessary as Emmett and Rose were both out when I returned home. So I happily went upstairs and read Kafka in my room.

Some time later, still firm in my convictions about Kafka's work, I heard the front door open and close. The tapping and scuffling of shoes, muffled voices and swishing of clothes made me slowly close my book, place it next to me on my bed and slide off the blue quilted cover. I tentatively left my room and made my way downstairs, pausing awkwardly at the foot of the stairs as I silently watched Rose and Emmett bustle around the kitchen packing away groceries.

I was brittle, my outside formed from the hardest marble and inside echoed emptiness. I wanted to continue trying with Rose, to bring back as much of the sister I was before that I could resurrect. I was not put off by my failure this morning. I simply needed to try a different tactic. Burying my head in the sand and casually dismissing my current personality clearly wasn't wise.

With my head slightly cast down and eyes peeking up under the loose hair falling over my face, I walked slowly into the kitchen and stopped in front of the breakfast bar. A wooden, metal and plastic barrier stood between me and my sister. And the spiralling of years stretching back into our respective pasts.

Emmett paused as he put a box into the cupboard. "Rose," he said gently. Rose looked to him from where she was crouching by the cupboard under the sink. Emmett's eyes flickered in my direction and she half swivelled toward me. Her eyes widened and with brisk fluidity she stood and faced me.

She stared at me with torn eyes as I looked back with my blank visage. Change wasn't an easy thing and I was trying to make a start.

"Hello," I said blandly. She cleared her throat nervously and smiled weakly at me.

"Hi." Her voice was hoarse and I frowned inside as to why her voice sounded so harsh. Her eyes looked red, swollen and her cheeks were flushed.

"Have you been crying?" I blurted, no emotion evident in my voice. But I hoped she could sense sincerity from my spontaneity.

"Uh-- yes, a-- a bit," she stuttered, her eyes flickering to and away from Emmett rapidly. If she was looking to him to make her decision, she was out of luck because Emmett looked like he was floundering at sea without a life-jacket.

"Why? Was it because of me?" I looked at her steadily and she flinched at my disgustingly flippant tone. I didn't mean it.

She looked down, wringing her hands and breathing quickly. Emmett came over to her and placed an arm round her shoulders. She started and shook him off.

"Please don't, remember?" she whispered. He apologized and moved away.

I began to feel a strange sensation in my forehead and eyebrows, almost like gravity was fighting to pull my eyebrows down and my forehead to fall and crease into a frown. I realized I desperately wanted to show my confusion and worry. But my mask was stronger and more immovable. The walls I had built around my mind, heart and emotions were built on strong foundations and not enough cracks had appeared yet. I didn't want any cracks, I needed more time.

"Bella," Rose said with a grating voice, desperate to sound firm. If only she could stop the shaking. She folded her arms across her body and clenched her fists.

"I _was_ crying today because of you. And... because of me-- a lot of reasons," she finished quietly and with a hushed voice. Her lip trembled despite the force with which she was biting it. Emmett looked like he was aching to put his arms around her.

I said nothing and I did nothing. I looked at Rose for a moment, the sensations of expressions I so desperately wanted to pull flitted over my face, under the surface of my skin. I turned to look at Emmett, and he looked at me with such intense pain that I felt my lungs twinge in a desire to gasp. I had never seen Emmett look so lost in anguish. He stood in the kitchen with his hands useless at his sides, his arms empty. And he was trapped in a snare I was not aware had been present.

"What reasons?" With exertion I did not know I possessed I allowed the determination I felt burning inside me to bleed through ever so slightly into my words. Rose's eyebrows flickered at the minor alteration in my tone. I cringed inwardly as a quick jab of pain fled through my head; the fixings of my façade were fastened with pain.

"I-- We've been going to see a therapist on Sundays," Rose confessed quickly.

"Why?" The word was pulled from my tongue without my consent and I could hear pain in my tone, which was followed swiftly by real pain in my head as a second knife slid in.

Another agonized glance was shared between Rose and Emmett, Emmett's face turned pleading as he pulled the muscles around his mouth outward and his eyes squinted.

Rose turned from him and looked back at me. The openness of her feelings hit me with a poignancy I could feel right down to my bones. I had never felt so jealous of my beautiful older sister.

Her staring at me helplessly and with a lost look on her face made my arms ache with the reflexive urge to comfort her.

The pain in my head worsened and I tensed the muscles in my arms, an attempt to prevent my arms from answering the emotional command.

"I'm sorry...." she whispered regretfully, looking at both me and Emmett, and I knew that was all the answer I was going to get.

I didn't push as I refused to be a hypocrite. We all hide behind our walls. Some are more reinforced than others but we all do it. And if Rose wanted to tell me what she hid from, then she would when she wanted.

I nodded slowly and turned to go.

"Wait!" Her cry came out in a gasping sob and I turned back to see the glistening of her tears glide down her peachy skin. She made a slight, nervous bouncy movement on her toes and repetitively squeezed her hands into a fist before opening them again. She savaged her bottom lip as she looked determinedly at me, and then she moved carefully around the breakfast bar. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise up and my right arm twitched, but I fought my body's desire to cower. It hurt too much to react. Rose stepped in front of me, closed her eyes, bent down and put her arms around me. Her embrace was gentle, even though her thin body felt angular and difficult to relax into. Besides the fact that literally every part of my psyche was screaming at me with the volume of a thousand Valkyries to either respond or to back away,

I took a deep breath and made a decision, come hell or high water.

I lifted my left arm and rested it loosely on her back, my hand limp and my elbow bent.

Rose let out a wet, gasping laugh at my movement. She tightened her grip on me and I wondered just what the hell I had become if this was enough to make her happy.

She pulled back to look at me, smiling despite the tears that made her face red and blotchy.

I wanted to smile back. I wanted to make Rose happy, to forget all the suitcases of bullshit that I constantly carried around with me, but I couldn't stop the unbearable fucking pounding pain that was squeezing my head.

I closed my eyes against the light that felt suddenly so harsh, my arm around Rose had slipped and I lifted it to my head unthinkingly. The action caused a burst of pain to splinter through my mind and I staggered back as dizziness hit me.

"Bella?" Rose's urgent voice, still hoarse but now sounding worried, broke through the waves of pain, but didn't helped.

"Bella, what's wrong?" I felt her grasp my elbow. The contact hurt and I flinched.

"D-don-n't touch me.... p-please, d-don't," I stammered as I felt stone hands locking my head in a vice and crushing my skull.

Blindly I managed to manoeuvre myself upstairs. I squinted through bleary eyes to confirm I was walking through the right bedroom door and once safely inside my room, I fell on my bed, placed a pillow over my tender head to block out as much light as possible and slept.

And dreamt of ghosts.

I woke up what I presumed to be hours later. I noticed my curtains had been closed, the pillow removed and a wet flannel placed on my head. It fell off sloppily when I sat up against the headboard. A loud creak and spring sounded out in the silence and I swear Rose was using it as a cue because not two minutes later I heard a knock on my door. Followed not two seconds later by her head peeking round the door.

"Can I come in?" she whispered. I nodded, staring at her like a dumb animal with dead eyes. I chose not to let it bother me the fact that my façade had settled over me with startlingly quickness and without my notice.

She walked into my room, her face clean, fresh, and covered in her cosmetics. She was wearing a green silky looking dress, which I realised was for Alice's. I looked down at my scruffy t-shirt and jeans. My socks had holes in the heels and my nails were bitten to the quick. I wasn't even aware I bit my nails. I suddenly felt incredibly self conscious of my appearance and when Rose perched carefully on the edge of my bed, smiling placidly at the wounded animal that was her sister, I felt myself burning to move away from her. For fear of tainting her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, the smile she wore looked concerned and genial. Her tone was maternal and intimate. I hated that I didn't trust her, that I found myself questioning her. I knew Rose loved me. I loved Rose, but there was a side to her I had seen and it was that side I couldn't love, or trust.

"Fine," I croaked, becoming aware of how dry my throat felt. Following the signs, I lifted a hand to my cheek to find it sticky. I had cried and shouted again, my subconscious' slideshow at work once more.

"You weren't as loud this time, honey," Rose told me gently as she reached out to touch my arm. I moved my arm at the last moment, so her hand rested on my leg instead. I bristled internally at her term of endearment, now I knew there was an element of phoniness to her actions.

Rose only called someone 'honey' when she pitied them, or if she wanted something.

I didn't doubt that she cared for me, I just knew there was more at work here than sisterly concern. And all I could do was sit and wait for her to reveal her poisonous hand.

At my lack of a reply she looked down at her lap, took a breath and took her hand off my leg.

"Emmett and I are going to Alice's for dinner," she said, looking down at her lap still. Her voice sounded rueful and I casually pondered why.

"Will you be alright on your own?" she added before I could reply. I nearly gasped in surprise, but I fought it down and replied in my best disinterested tone.

"I thought I was invited as well." I saw her eyes widen and she leaned back slightly.

"Did you want to come?" Her voice was high in surprise.

"Yes." My own was a disappointing blankness. Low and hollow.

"I just assumed-- I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't want to. I'll ring Alice and tell her you're coming then." She hastily stood up with a smile and moved to the door. Before closing it behind her she suggested I change.

For once I was actually inclined to agree with her.

I got under the shower, the water as hot as possible and I relished in the pulsing power beating down on me and battering my body. But I didn't feel anything – no force, no heat. I just felt buffeted.

I stepped out carefully, wrapped a towel around me and walked swiftly through the cooling air of the hallway to my room. Opening up my closet, I looked at my drab and dreary clothes, nearly all dark colours, nearly all t-shirts and a couple of pairs of jeans and trousers, some sweaters. And then there were my other clothes, the ones folded in piles at the bottom or on shelves, where I had found my Guns 'N' Roses t-shirt.

This new awareness of my appearance was still lingering in the air about me and I wanted to wear something different, but I didn't know precisely why. Maybe because I was sick of feeling like the ugly sister.

Maybe because I was getting sick of hating everything about myself. Maybe because Edward would be there, and as much as I had enjoyed our conversation, his scrutinising eyes made me feel like I was not aesthetically pleasing to him. I felt a prickle of fear run down my spine as I realized I wanted to be. As I rifled through folded piles of clothes, never quite finding just the thing, and discovering garments I couldn't believe I ever wore, I mulled over my strange epiphany about Edward.

I did not think he was especially handsome. He was a lot older than me, greying, wrinkled and his manner could be quite brusque. Almost rude. When we were talking I felt most of the time as though he was dismissing my opinion entirely, like I had to prove it to him. But I could tell he had a ferocious intellect, that he felt things deeply, and no one could deny he had beautiful eyes. I decided to rationalize my strange new urge as a reaction to wanting to equal myself to him. I wanted to prove my own intellect and possibly some of my natural beauty if I could. Sadly, I doubted I was as clever as he was, and I doubted I could ever be as attractive as him. Despite the fact I would not have described him as handsome myself, I could see others would think so.

My hand hit some silky material as I finished that thought with a satisfying tone. I pulled out what I had come across and discovered it was a dark blue blouse made out of a light satin. I couldn't remember when I had ever worn it, but it looked suitable for dinner at Alice's. I shook it out, hoping to get rid of some of the creases, and pulled off a pair of black skinny leg jeans – the ones I'd worn to Irina's party, I noticed – and some underwear from my drawer.

Instead of roughly drying my body and throwing my clothes on still slightly damp skin, I took my time, found a nearly empty bottle of moisturiser which I spread over as much of my body as possible and spritzed myself with a perfume I'd never worn before. I then began the aching task of french plaiting my hair whilst waiting for my body to dry and soak in the moisturiser.

Ten minutes later and with stiff arms, I pulled on my underwear, jeans and blouse. It fitted a little too loosely but as I surveyed myself in the mirror, I decided not too badly.

I then picked up a metallic white eyeshadow that was roughly five years old and only had powder in the corners, and lightly dusted my eyelids. I applied a few strokes of mascara and picked out a shiny pink lip balm for my lips. Both had never been used before.

I stepped back from my dresser, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I rubbed my lips together. My face was still pallid, still plain and nondescript. Nothing about me stood out or was special, my hair was tightly scraped back in the french plait and my eyebrows stood out thickly. I sighed and frowned, looking down at my dresser top. The scatterings of my attempt to beautify myself lay haphazardly and messily around the wooden surface. I picked it all up and opened my top drawer to put them back. Nestled in between my socks lay my hairdryer with the cord wrapped around the nozzle. I never used it.

I dropped my make-up back in the box and lifted out my hairdryer. Plugging it in, I pulled out the hair band from the plait which took so long to do. I combed my fingers through my hair to untangle it, but a kink still remained though. I turned on my hairdryer and began to dry my hair. The length and the thickness meant it was quite a job, especially when I realized I was actually using a travel hairdryer. I kept an eye on the clock as I moved the dryer around my head swiftly, trying to accomplish the job as fast as possible. It was twenty past five and I guessed we'd be leaving in about fifteen minutes.

For the next five minutes I one-handedly, frantically dried my hair with the dryer and with the other tidied up whatever was close at hand and got my things together. Finally I felt most of my hair seemed to be dry as I patted it with my free hand. I turned off my dryer, unplugged it and hastily put it back in my drawer. I stuffed my feet in black flats and as I straightened up, grabbed the comb from the top of my dresser. I began to try and tug the comb through my hair, which I know realized was looking very... big. Big and wild.

It had dried with a bit of a kink to it and was looking much thicker than usual. The unrestrained-ness off it made the red in my hair much more noticeable and I looked uncertainly at myself in the mirror. I wasn't sure if I looked like I'd been electrocuted or if it looked full bodied, and well... kind of nice.

A soft knocking on my door and no blonde head popping around meant it was Emmett.

"Come in," I called, careful over my tone.

Emmett opened the door and stepped in, a small smile on his face until he saw me. His eyes popped out from his head and his mouth fell open a little. The self consciousness became very prominent suddenly.

"Bella... you-" he started to say, but I cut him off.

"I know. I was just about to tie it back." I reached for the hair band and my brush.

"No, don't!" I started at his loud tone and turned to him. He was still partially covered by the open door and he ran his hand nervously down the edge of the frame, over the handle then back up again.

"You look nice, Bella. You've always had lovely hair. Please don't tie it up again. Makes you look so..." He paused and pulled a thoughtful face. "A bit too severe." He looked steadily at me, a comforting smile on his face. With Emmett I never doubted the genuineness of his gestures and words. But he was too firmly placed in the classification of family in my mind and I could not allow my façade to lift around him. Family hurts you, and stifles you. They don't mean to, but they do.

I put the hair band and brush back down on my dresser top, reached for my jacket and made to get my bag before thinking, _What the hell would I need it for anyway?_

Emmett stepped back from my door into the hall and I followed him out, closing my door behind me.

We met Rose by the front door as she was stuffing keys into her over-large purse. She looked up when she heard us coming down the stairs, Emmett behind me. A look of shock fell over her face as she looked at me, and my hand burned with the urge to pat my hair down.

"You look nice, Bella," she said, her voice skewed in too high a pitch.

"Thank you," I replied in my quiet voice that communicated nothing. "You too," I added pointing at her dress.

"Thanks." Her face brightened in a smile. Emmett edged past me and took Rose's arm with a proud grin. As fond as I was of Emmett, I found his and Rose's little smug, simpering act a little nauseous as they both walked out the door together smiling at the 'progress' I'd made. Like I was some mute, feral child they'd taken in and they were teaching to be civilised. Well, their version of civilised anyway.

I followed Rose and Emmett out the door, closing it behind me, and to the car. I decided I didn't want to be trained to fit in with their version of civility. I liked my own.

I got in the backseat since Rose drove, and stared out the window to watch the stars twinkle next to the yellow glow of the streetlamps that we passed. I didn't want to be that manufactured light, which hummed and cast jaundiced glows over the world. I wanted to twinkle brilliant white light miles and miles and miles away from where I was right now. I wanted to get away and be free. But there was something clinging to my heels and dragging me backward, or maybe I wasn't moving at all.

Maybe I hadn't tried to move yet. If I made one very big effort, to take just one step, how far would I go?

As we drove to Alice's house, twilight falling and stars shining, I thought about those we so want to leave behind.

And those who left us behind.

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**A/N: SO yeah..... Big chapter really. And so will the next one be I think.**

**ANyway I have 2 announcements:**

**1. The Boy in the Cafeteria has been nominated in the Indie Twifics, if I got to the next round I'd be flipping ecstatic, please vote!**

**http://theindietwificawards(dot)com/ValidatedStories(dot)aspx  
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**2. cdunbar and I are hosting a contest called 'An Exploration of the Senses'.**

**Basically you write a oneshot based on one of the five senses, details are on my profile and I've written an example based on hearing.**

**cdunbar has written one based on touch and it's beautiful.**

**Hope you liked the chapter, hope you vote for bitc and hope you enter our contest!**

**Thank you  
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	14. What Part Do I Play Now?

**A/N: I can't even put into words my love for you all.**

**The guys on the_gazebo who follow this, you make me so happy that you're actually into this fic.**

**Jennday and jedi_em you make me laugh so much, I love you and thank you for rec'ing/pimping me**

**cdunbar, 'baby you're the best'. That was the James Bond song btw by Carly Simon. **

**JeNnNn, I miss you!!!!!**

**oxymoronic8- thank you for helping with Glen Ellyn! I'm so crap I forgot to thank you, I'm soooo sorry!!!!!**

**faite-comme moi, thank you for the poetry chat, you give me literary release and I love that you get my references.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to smeyer, Alas I Cannot Swim belongs to Laura Marling (worship her! she's amazing!).**

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14. What Part Do I Play Now?

"_There's a boy across the river_

_But alas I cannot swim_

_And I never will get to put my arms around him"_

'_Alas I Cannot Swim' by Laura Marling_

We sped through the silent night in a silent car, the colour ofthe inky sky above us. Rose drove with her determined eyes focused solely on the road, Emmett absently hummed a Bon Jovi tune, and I sat quietly and grave in the backseat looking at all that we were.

I felt the engine steam along, glide into every pothole in the road we dipped into and every turn that we took. I saw my absorbed sister, so consumed by her current occupation she was oblivious to everything else. I heard Emmett hum a song by an artist he detested and would deride loudly when invaded by their music. And I sat behind them, lost in examining everything around me.

Rather than just enjoying the ride.

Why couldn't I just enjoy the fucking ride?

We pulled up at a house. The air was cold as I got out and I clutched my faded khaki jacket tight around me. Rose led the way up the garden path, moving too swiftly for me to properly take in my surroundings, while Emmett walked behind me.

Rose rang the bell then took a slight step back; we were taught from an early age not to stand too close to the door when the resident opened it. I couldn't remember who had told us that. Probably not my mother. The imparting of knowledge and manners from my mother was like getting blood from a stone. Fucking tricky.

The door audibly creaked open and I saw a dark green plaid flannel shirt, then a hand with silver framed glasses dangling from the fingers as I peered around Rose into the dimly hit interior of the hall.

"Hi, Edward," Rose said, stepping into the house as Edward moved back.

"Rose," was his quietly formal reply.

I followed Rose in and looked up at Edward holding the door open. He looked down at me, his eyes darting, looking like they were taking in everything about me all at once. No holds barred. A gentle smile appeared on his face and unthinkingly I responded with my own.

I immediately started panicking.

I shot my head down and shuffled after Rose, a rushing sound in my ears and my heart racing. I kept my mouth clamped shut and tried not to breathe ferociously through my nose. I robotically followed the sheen of Rose's green dress, oblivious to what was around me.

I had no idea what to do. I felt like I was drowning. I cursed myself for being so stupid, for not thinking about the position I'd put myself in. I had willingly made a rope by which to hang myself when I agreed to come. My façade was an automatic defensive shutter for me when around basically everyone, the very few who it had not clamped down around were Alice and Edward. However, when I was around them it also meant that I wasn't as guarded around other people. That did not count Rose and Emmett.

And now I was completely and utterly torn in two.

It broke my heart that the Bella I had been that morning with Edward in the park, the Bella last night with Edward in Irina's kitchen, the Bella in Rose's kitchen with Alice, and the Bella at the mall with Alice was not the same Bella tonight. I couldn't be that Bella. I wasn't even certain who that Bella was. Bella sans bullshit?

I could not remove the armour, drop the mask or shed the façade. There would be no walls crashing down. Self revulsion made bile rise up in my throat and I used my self disgust to center myself.

I took a deep breath as subtly as possible, kept my head down and breathed out slowly.

When I lifted my head, the thick darkness of my hair fell away onto my shoulders and I could see I was still standing slightly behind Rose. She was greeting Alice, who was pouring white wine out into three large glasses. Emmett and Edward walked into the room behind me, Emmett speaking quietly to Edward who was tilting his head so he could hear him better whilst looking forward as he walked.

My jacket was gone, but I didn't know when, how or by whom. And in the light of the kitchen I felt conscious of eyes taking in my appearance.

"Hey, Bella, Emmett," Alice said cheerfully as she passed a glass to Rose then Emmett and I.

"Hi, Alice. Smells good," Emmett replied, taking the glass which looked considerably smaller now that he held it, and placing an arm around Alice in an embrace which she swiftly returned.

"Thanks, it's the chicken." She grinned and stepped back over to the stove. Jasper came in through a door at the end of the kitchen. He walked past the shining red cabinets with black surfaces carrying a covered pot and wearing oven mitts.

"What's that?" Rose asked before squealing as a bulky silver blur rushed past her skirt from the door Jasper had just come in from and out the door we had just walked through. I saw Edward rush after the blur.

"What was that?" Rose said shrilly, pointing with the hand that held her wine. I would have loved to have sighed at her melodramatics, but couldn't.

"Oh. Clair, Edward's dog. He probably heard another dog barking or something," Jasper replied as he smiled and nodded a greeting at Emmett and I before helping Alice put the pot in the oven.

"And this is just pasta," he added, straightening up and taking the mitts off his hands.

Edward returned to the kitchen, Clair at his heels. "I managed to get to him before he could start barking," he said to the room.

Alice responded,

"Good, I don't want the neighbours coming round again."

I heard Edward mumble "just once" before looking grumpily down at Clair. Rose started to edge over to the other side of the kitchen as Emmett bent down and stroked Clair's flanks, patting his ribs so a thwacking sound rang out. Clair stood stiffly, apparently ignoring Emmett's attentions but staring unnervingly at me once again. I pondered joining Rose, but I didn't want to accede dominance to a dog once more in a room full of witnesses. I stared blankly back. Clair blinked and turned his head away indifferently. I wondered whether with my façade up I was more dominant and stronger, or just more insignificant.

Invincible or invisible?

We chatted and sipped wine for a few minutes while dinner finished cooking. Well, the others chatted. I listened, looked around Jasper and Alice's homely, if slightly small, kitchen and drank my wine. Midway through Emmett and Jasper discussing plans for another hunting trip to burn off some blood-lust for poor defenceless creatures, Clair plodded over to me and sat down. My hand fell to my side and I began to stroke his head. I found myself warming to the beast. I'd never had much experience with animals having never had a pet, despite the tortoise urge which I was denied. I liked animals. I was just never responsible for one. I began to think maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. But then I thought about knowingly giving love and care to a creature who you would outlive and I dismissed the idea hastily lest shoots sprouted.

Alice announced that dinner was ready. Jasper got the dish out the oven, prompting Rose to ask why he'd walked in carrying it. Apparently they poured the starchy water down the toilet so they didn't block up the sink. Alice picked up the pan from the top of the stove and gestured at us to follow Edward out. Clair walked beside me as we filed our way into the dining room.

The table was already all set out, candles lit and lights dimmed down. Soft bluesy music played in the background and I tried to identify the musician before a soft, smooth voice drifted out and I recognized it.

We took our seats. I was placed opposite Edward but next to Rose, while Alice and Jasper took the heads of the table.

"Help yourselves. It's just a simple pasta with chicken in red wine and some mushrooms," Alice told us as she lifted lids off steaming pots.

We busied ourselves with spooning the food onto our plates. I found Rose piling chicken on top of my pasta after she had done hers. It irritated me, especially as she gave me a quantity I didn't ask for, but I just sat and dumbly watched her. I noticed Edward staring at her incredulously. He pointedly asked if I would like any bread as his eyes flickered to Rose and I heard that soft humming noise again that he made when he was annoyed. But I wasn't free to tease him tonight.

"Thank you," I said, taking the basket from him. His eyes shot back to me and bored a mentally invasive hole through my head as he scowled at me. I knew it was because of my voice, that disturbingly dead voice that I hadn't used around him just that morning.

"You're welcome." His voice was dangerous and sounded angry. I felt that well of ever abundant self pity swell in the pit of my stomach. _I don't even have the freedom to frown,_ I thought bitterly. _I can't show him that I don't mean it._

As we began to eat, murmurs of approval and enjoyment sounded from all throats, except mine. I would if I could, though. The compliments on Alice's cooking began, Emmett leading as he genially praised her. Rose followed, "It's absolutely delicious, Alice. Isn't it, Bella?" She turned to me with a lifted brow and pleasant smile on her face. I felt so openly humiliated. I responded with my vacant, "Yes, Rose." But I could feel anger stirring in me. I was not a child, but it came so easy to Rose to treat me as one. In her head she was older and wiser, so I followed her lead and she knew best. Our mother was so ridiculously incompetent that Rose felt it her duty to step up to the task of raising me. Ironically she was just as bad and I had raised myself. Sadly neither of them was aware of their failings and both thought of themselves as my mother.

I turned from Rose and picked at my food with my fork. Conversation swirled around me but I partook of none of it. Occasionally I would look up and see glances from various people pointed at me. Edward's eyes were nearly constantly on me and his expression varied from anger, irritation, confusion and what I believed to be concern. His thumb repetitively ran across his forehead so I knew he was puzzled, and he would also hum or clear his throat, which meant he was annoyed or displeased. He would go absolutely rigid and pierce me or Rose with his eyes, which was what I believed to be his anger.

And then he would look so sad and slump slightly in his seat. I wanted it to be concern for me, and the desire for someone to worry and feel for me wrapped me up so suddenly that I felt like I needed to catch my breath. He was looking at me with those sad, sad eyes when I felt that desire for empathy and something must have broken through because he stirred and raised his eyebrows slightly. I looked down at my plate, shovelled a piece of chicken onto my fork with a couple of mushrooms and focused on eating.

Inevitably we finished the main course and Alice brought out dessert. Jasper took our plates out despite Rose insisting that she help. Jasper charmingly told her she was the guest and guests did not help, so she settled back into her seat.

With the two main hosts gone, silence fell in the room. Clair had wandered off twenty minutes ago when Edward had sternly refused to give in to his begging. Rose tapped her manicured nails in time to the sultry singer. "Who is this, Edward? Do you know?" she asked.

Emmett's chair creaked as he shifted sideways. Edward looked at Rose over his arched hands he was resting over the table on his elbows.

"Yes, it's Madeleine Peyroux," he answered, taking an elbow off to brush crumbs away from his setting to the middle of the table.

"Oh I've never heard of her. She's nice. Bit melancholy," Rose replied with a slight laugh at the end of her sentence, turning to Emmett who smiled in reply.

"It would be. It's blues," I said spontaneously. I waited for a sharp jab of pain but none came. I felt like sighing in relief before feeling immensely confused. Why so much pain this afternoon, but none now?

My statement came out dead, vacant, and my face still had that awful pretence of ambivalence, but I had not meant to voice my thought aloud.

"Oh," was all Rose said. I saw her arch her sculpted eyebrows at Emmett before facing forward. Edward looked at me once more. This time with intent, so I waited.

"You know her?" he asked. I could almost hear the hope in his voice. I wanted to say not now, not with Rose next to me and Emmett next to you. When we are alone somewhere, when we're in the park I'll talk to you for hours about everything if you want. But not here where those present I have to keep out.

Instead I nodded and looked down at the table.

I didn't see if Edward was going to say anything else because in walked Alice carrying a tray and Jasper behind her carrying bowls and spoons.

"Here we are," Alice said brightly as she placed the tray on the centre of the table. She picked up glass ramekins holding chocolate soufflés and placed one on a plate Jasper had put in front of each of us. They moved swiftly and synchronized around the table before settling in their chairs and inviting us to eat.

Clatteringly, we started dessert and Alice confessed that they were bought, not home-made when Rose told her she was impressed at the quality of the soufflés.

"Oh, don't worry. They are notoriously difficult," she reassured Alice, who smiled.

"Although Bella made soufflés once when she was twelve," she added proudly, as though it was her achievement instead of mine. I shifted slightly back into my seat and concentrated on spooning a piece of the soufflé out and swallowing it.

"Really? Did they work, Bella?" Alice asked me. It was the first time she had directly spoken to me, even though she'd tried to direct the conversation in areas which would interest me all night. She was waiting for me to speak up but didn't know she was acting in vain.

I swallowed my mouthful so I could reply, but Rose beat me to it.

"Yes, they were perfect. She's a good little cook." I actually balled up my hand into a fist as it laid on my lap under the cream table cloth. I kept telling myself Rose didn't realize she was embarrassing me; she didn't know she was being rude. But then there was a part of me that felt very strongly she _should_.

Rose looked smilingly around the table before scooping up another spoonful of her dessert, popping it in her mouth and sighing contentedly.

Alice merely hummed in response to her statement, Emmett was oblivious to Rose's barbs now anyway, and Jasper had gone out to fetch more wine.

Edward looked outraged.

He looked from me to Rose and back again, his eyes wide, forehead creased and spoon hanging forgotten in the air on the way to his mouth.

"She's not a child," he said hotly, setting his spoon with its forgotten food down. He was glaring openly at Rose now and everyone was looking from him, to Rose, and then to me.

"Edward..." Alice said lowly, yet insistently.

"What? She's not," he hissed, swivelling in his seat to lean over the table toward Alice.

"I know she's not!" said Rose with wide owl-like eyes that were pinning Edward.

"Well you treat her like one," he replied, settling back into his seat. He was jumping to my rescue again, and whilst I appreciated it, it wasn't really any of his business.

And the constant references to 'she', as though I wasn't even there, made him just as bad as Rose.

This time I knew I had to say something, I had to end this. Which also meant working at the very edges of my mask, with my nose pressed to the glass and peering out.

"Stop it, it doesn't matter." That was all I could think of to say. That was all I _could_ say.

Their eyes shifted to me, but I turned away from all of them.

I'd finished dessert, I'd drunk my wine, and I'd had my fill.

"What do you-" I heard Edward say harshly before Alice stopped him.

"Edward, _leave it_." I'd never heard her voice sound so final and authoritative.

I must have worked because he didn't say any more and seeing that everyone had finished she suggested we go sit in the living room where she would bring out coffee, if anyone wanted any. She was met with a chorus of yes's save one.

We rose from our seats with Alice, but followed Jasper into the living room, where Clair was lying on one of the brown sofas. Jasper attempted to shoo him off but it was Edward who he responded to. He loped off slowly and padded over to the window, looking out to the front of the house. The goldish glow of manufactured light shone outside and as the others settled into their respective positions, I found myself wandering over to it.

Clair sat upright with his ears pricked up. I stood looking out onto the silent street, rare for anyone to pass on foot or wheel. I heard Alice come in and set a tray down with a rattle, cups chinked and liquid poured.

"I know you didn't say yes but I got you one just in case," I heard Alice say gently in my ear. I turned slightly, and she had a small smile on her face.

"Thank you." I mentally lifted the curtain and quietly poured out my gratitude. I thought she saw the flicker of life in my eyes because her smile brightened. With Rose across the room and consumed in other things, I felt I could widen the elastic band a bit before I had to snap it back in place.

I took the delicate coffee cup from her, with a biscuit, two sugar lumps and a spoon resting on the saucer. Still smiling she walked away to be hostess to others, but she squeezed my elbow before she went. She knew I preferred to be quiet by the window. I turned back to it.

I sipped my coffee, plopped in one of the sugar cubes, stirred it three times and resumed sipping quietly.

Music was now playing in the living room, trickling out of the speakers and twirling in the air. I watched the humming golden light and listened to warm music warm my soul.

The golden light started to flicker manically, blinking on and off before finally sputtering out and it was up to the moon and the stars to shine for this house.

"Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light." A deep voice murmured the lines of the poem in my ear. I turned toward the voice.

"'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night' by Dylan Thomas," I primly replied to a smiling Edward. My eyes flickered out the corner of my eye to see Rose talking animatedly on the sofa, gesturing wildly. I allowed myself to smile at Edward, our bodies angled toward the window and Clair between us.

He mimed applause, his hands empty of coffee. I could smell it on his breath though, mingling with the smoked woodiness of his own scent.

I let out a sighing puff of air from my nose, smiling quietly as I turned my face back to the night light.

"Very good. Do you like Dylan Thomas, too?" I heard him say quietly in my ear. From the corner of my eye I could see he had bent closer to me, stooping slightly and his knee was pressing into Clair's ribs. I shuffled away from him so he didn't have to stand on top of Clair. I wasn't sure why he was standing so close. I didn't feel comfortable.

"I haven't heard much really. But that one has always stuck out in my mind," I answered, speaking slightly louder so he knew he didn't have to whisper. I let emotion bleed out and expressions rose to the surface of my face. He saw me do it and frowned.

"Why do you do that?" he demanded testily.

"Do what?" I drew back, being careful now.

"Go blank. Your face just absolutely clears of everything, and you hide inside your head." He was pinning me like a beetle to a board with his words, gestures and eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said firmly, putting my cup and saucer down on the window ledge so I could cross my arms.

"How long do you think you can get away with it?" He didn't hiss it, spit it or shout it. He said it gently and with concern. I turned to see no condemnation, just worry.

"I don't know," I whispered as my eyes watered. I blinked it away and looked down at Clair, reaching out to stroke his silky fur.

"He wrote a poem about a mask you know," he said.

"Who?" I cocked my head at him.

"Dylan Thomas. It's called 'O Make Me A Mask'." I let out a disbelieving laugh. He arched an eyebrow at me. I remembered people didn't like it when I made light of it.

"I find the coincidence funny, sorry," I said, shrinking my smile. He shrugged and looked out the window. "I can't remember exactly how it goes. I'll find it for you if you'd like." I nodded, smiling. I didn't say I could just look it up on the internet.

"Why did you quote that poem?" I asked, looking up at him.

"The going out of the light, the quiet night. You placidly standing here, looking more alive than you had all night. I don't know....." he trailed off, sighing.

"I want to die like that," I said spontaneously, yet deadly serious. Edward jerked his head toward me and looked at me with surprise.

"What do you mean?" His voice rose.

"I don't want to meekly perish away. I want to be defiant, fight all the way, never lose myself," I asserted. Edward chuckled and shook his head. "What?" I demanded tartly.

"You can't say what you'll do. You don't know what's in store for you," he said with confidence, tucking his hands into his pockets. I mulled over what he said, standing so I leant my elbow on the window ledge and the side of my forehead pressed against the glass.

"You may not know what's in store, but you know who you are," I said decisively.

"Do you know who you are?" I felt the pointedness of his comment, but I didn't say anything.

Because he was right. I was becoming someone new and I didn't know who that was yet.

"You aren't for laying back and trusting in God to deliver you safely into the kingdom of heaven then?" he said lightly, trying to draw me back.

"God is dead," I said with the assertiveness of the melancholy.

"What makes you think he was ever alive?" Edward countered with an arched eyebrow and a wry smile. My lips twitched in response.

We were safe in our cynicism.

"Touché," I replied, taking my head off the icy window pane, and turning back to him with a smile.

"I try." The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile and I laughed at his humility.

He looked lighter, younger. His forehead wasn't weighed down by frown lines, his eyes were bright and his shoulders relaxed. Our age gap suddenly didn't seem quite so big.

Alice calling our names brought my smile to fall off my face as my façade rolled down neatly. Edward frowned at me but nodded slightly and said nothing.

We turned to face the others in the room. Alice was sitting next to Rose on the sofa, Emmett in a chair, Jasper standing.

"It's our parent's wedding anniversary soon and my mum asked me to throw a surprise party for my dad. Given recent events, I just asked Rose if you all wanted to come for the weekend?" Alice asked me eagerly.

I froze. It wasn't something I particularly wanted to do, but then the prospect of staying home alone and knowing they were all doing something without me, that I would only be actively widening the gap between Rose and I made me pause for thought.

Rose clinched the deal though. She mistook my pause and instantly began to reassure me, "It's okay, Bella, you don't have to come. I'll leave you some money for groceries and stuff, and you can reach us on our cells." The satisfied, well meaning smile resting on Rose's elegant face as she folded her hands in her lap and believed she'd solved the issue made me speak up.

"No, I'll come. I'd like to meet your parents," I said in the dullest and barest voice a person could speak in.

Alice smiled in triumph, Rose shrugged and they began to discuss details. I glanced at Edward, who was looking lost in thought as he stared down at his shoes, his hands still in his pockets.

I ignored the trembling of my stomach as trepidation filled me. I refused to let uncertainty overcome me. Just for once I wanted to go with the flow, take life as it hit me.

Unfortunately life had already hit me too hard, too fast and I was still trying to--

I wasn't even sure what I was trying to do. Recover? Protect? Survive? Exist?

All I knew was that I was standing in a friend's house, next to a friend and had just made plans with friends.

It wouldn't last and it might be taken away from me as swiftly as it was given, but I decided that while it was here I was going to try to welcome it.

I decided I was going to take a chance on people.

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**A/N: Oooooooooooo**

**Be proud of me two updates in a week!**

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	15. Hold Fast The Tide It Turns

**A/N: Well I'm back, I took some time out and put my AU in hiatus. My focus is solely on this story now, and after this chapter it all starts to get _very_ interesting.**

**Thank you to my lovely reviewers, I don't say it enough but I love you all.**

**Thank you JeNnN, for holding my hand through yet another chapter.**

**Thank you Christine for quite rightly making this better than I thought it could be. And for your crap movie suggestion.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight, Don't own Daniel Johnston's songs (wish I did).  
**

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15. Hold Fast; The Tide It Turns

_'This is a promise with a catch_

_Only if you're looking will it find you_

_'Cause true love is searching too_

_But how can it recognize you_

_Unless you step out into the light?_

_Don't be sad I know you will_

_But don't give up until_

_True love will find you in the end.'_

_True Love Will Find You in the End by Daniel Johnston_

Getting your feeling back is – hard.

But I was determined to do it.

As I left Alice and Jasper's that night, following Rose out the door with my eyes fixed to the ground, I said my goodbyes and thank you's to those good enough to feed me. I looked like a girl gripping her mother's hand tightly as she thanks her friend's parents for having her.

I was no child, I was a woman. I always felt uncomfortable associating that term with myself, but that night I felt the classifications shift around me and found it fitted much more comfortably.

I wasn't clattering around in my mother's stilettos anymore, I was strutting down sidewalks in my own heels proudly.

No one could see this internal assertion, this new surge of confidence growing inside me. This undefined 'thing' I was going to nurture. The only tell was a flicker of my eyes from the floor to Edward. He caught the edge of my glance with such delicate care I almost stumbled over the porch step. My eyes were caught in his and the earnest expression on his face captivated me. So it was, with my head turned, I followed Rose and Emmett to the car. It was with hesitation I looked away from Edward's shadowed figure.

The night passed, as it must, with me tossing and turning restlessly in the bed. My subconscious was caught in the tangled tentacles of the past, clinging to my cuff with the tenacity of depression and grief. I woke with no memory of the dreams, just the misery.

The dinner at Alice and Jasper's was the start of a shift in my life in Rose and Emmett's house. Over the consequent few weeks I began to receive visits from Alice during the week, usually around lunchtime; either she had no work to do or that was when she believed she deserved one. These visits all consisted of several hours.

The first couple of visits it would start out with us sitting around and chatting, eating some lunch or sharing a coffee. Occasionally experimenting with Rosalie's herbal tea selection in matching Disney or quote mugs. I favored the Sex Pistols' 'Ever felt like you've been cheated' one, Alice liked Marilyn Monroe's 'A wise girl kisses but doesn't love, listens but doesn't believe, and leaves before she is left.' She would tell me about her business, things with Jasper, their old life in Chicago. I would talk of my frustrations with work, my annoyances with Rose. And relish the opportunity to be myself, this new me I was starting to see emerging. I never felt the need to protect and hide myself with Alice. I had been so scared of intimacy and cherishing people that it had left me cold and alone, I decided it was time to stop. And I decided to start with Alice, someone who I believed was lonely and confused much like me. We never spoke of real fears, I never talked of my life in Forks and Alice never talked about her mother.

I knew plenty of her frustrations with Jasper, however, but soon I began to wonder whether it was just minor complaints about her partner that she needed to purge from her chest to a friend. I tried to hide the small smile that rose on my face at the thought that I was the friend Alice chose to talk to; she didn't choose Rosalie.

One day we were sitting at the breakfast bar, Alice fingering the hot ceramic mug she cradled in her dainty hands and tracing Marilyn Monroe's words with her fingertips as silence settled comfortably between us. She was staring thoughtfully down, and noticing it was usually I who stared pensively into my drink and not her, I decided to broach the Jasper issue. To find out whether things between them were more precarious than they looked at first glance.

"Alice--" I tentatively began. She jerked her head up swiftly with a light "Hmm?" and a pleasant smile. A smile to cover the thoughts that rolled around in the crevices of her mind.

"You know... Well.... How are things with you and Jasper, really. I mean are things okay or--" My awkwardly delivered sentence hung in the air between us as we sat frozen in the other's stare. Alice surprised, I timid.

She broke away first, taking a sip of her steaming tea even though it was still far too hot to drink. I saw her wince slightly as she swallowed, but she settled the mug down composedly. She followed the mug down with her eyes and contemplatively watched the surface. With her eyes absorbed by her whirling reflection and her short boyish hair I felt like I was staring at a modern day Narcissus. But Alice wouldn't fall, and I was no Echo to merely haunt her with her own words. I pushed.

"Alice, I don't think you're happy," I said gently.

"I'm not," she replied quietly as a drip fell and broke the surface of her tea. I left my seat and walked round to hold her. She turned into my embrace and quietly cried into the crook of my neck while I rocked her slightly and stroked her hair. I would never be a mother, but I fell into the role easily when needed. I comforted the child I would never have, the sister I wanted to choose as my own. Alice sobbed into the neck of the sister she had always wanted, the hermit-friend she sought out.

When she was quieter she leaned back and we shared an awkward chuckle as she sniffed and wiped her eyes carefully so as not to smudge her mascara. I went back to my seat and waited for her to talk.

"Things aren't working anymore," she whispered hoarsely. "I thought things were getting better but... I thought if I talked to him more, told him how I felt and how annoyed I get with him. You know with him never being there, only seeing him two days out of the week and he's usually hung-over for one of them." I nodded, quite familiar with the root of her annoyance. "But he just refuses to listen. He either says nothing or snaps at me. We argue now when we see each other, the two days we get together are spent at each other's throats. I know we could see each other oftener if he didn't stay in the city so much, go out after work so much." She stopped briefly to control her trembling voice, which had begun to rise and quail. "I don't think he wants to be around me anymore, and I don't blame him," she finished, sniffing loudly as tears leaked from her eyes again.

"Why do you think that?" I asked softly, always careful to comfort and not provoke.

She sighed before answering, her small shoulders hunched as she stared at the table top despondently. "I'm not fun to be around anymore. I used to be so carefree, nothing bothered me. Someone insulted me, I'd tell them to fuck off, turn my back on them and move right along. Jasper loved that about me. He always used to say how much he loved my vivacity. He doesn't say it anymore. He stopped not long after we moved here. Everything went wrong when we moved here....." She trailed off. I cupped my mug as I let her mull over her own words, waiting to soothe her if I could.

She sighed quietly and the corners of her mouth tucked down as she tried to suppress another sob, and I seized my moment.

"I like to be around you. I don't think you're boring or dull. I mean, look at me. I have no idea why you choose to spend time with me! Some emotionally crippled fuck up." She began to shake her head and opened her mouth to speak, but I plowed on. "You need to talk to Jasper, a proper talk. Don't walk away yet, don't lose heart yet. Talk to him. Everything will be fine, don't worry." She smiled and nodded, her eyes shiny but no longer spilling tears. We moved on to talk of other things, inconsequential in the grander scheme of things but important at the time. An excuse to stay in each other's company before Rose or Emmett returned and Alice had to return to her empty house.

After that conversation I felt closer to Alice. I already felt a kinship, but now an openness grew between us. She began to talk of her mother, her father and her brother. I began to talk of my fears, but not of Forks. Never Forks. But I would tell her how I yearned to not be so guarded, and how I was trying to let Rose in more. But it was hard, and the more I tried to get closer to her, the more I wanted to get further away.

My annoyance with Rose was growing. She had embarrassed me at Alice and Jasper's repeatedly, and I felt my frustration take root and grow.

Soon, I began to find nearly everything about her irritating. Her laugh would grate, her voice was shrill, her touch too pawing and smiles too feral. I had always thought her beautiful, an image of perfection I couldn't possibly hope to emulate. Her puberty had been relatively smooth. At one point she had been rather gangly and awkward, yet to grow into her height, but she was beautiful, always beautiful.

I, however, felt like a mishmash of genetic material. My father's hair, my mother's eyes. Features, habits and quirks that were passed down by those before me, nothing truly mine. I wore Rose's cast-offs, they fitted badly and either swamped or stretched uncomfortably over me. My skin, although not terrible by other's standards, looked more like an affliction compared to Rose. Rose's breasts grew full and pert, mine were modest and only apparent if wearing a good bra. I was always the 'other Swan girl', Rose's little sister, so good at drifting into the background that a chameleon would be jealous. And even when I moved away, away from my mother and away from Rose's shadow, I still carried that sense of second best with me. Despite enthusiastic and ardent words to the contrary. And only until very recently, when I looked in the mirror all I saw was the scraping of a gene pool, Rose the pedigree and I the mongrel.

But that began to alter. Things would catch my eye that made me sit up straighter, hold my head higher. I did not think I had grown in beauty, I was settled into how I would be now. It was doubtful my appearance and looks would improve, and even if they did I was sure I would never be able to see it. But that gilt pedestal I had placed Rose on so long ago was gradually beginning to lose its height and soon became a mere step. Her eyes, once so clear and bright, began to look to me lined and fogged. Vicious red veins streaked out toward her irises, and crow's feet were etched into her skin. Her mascara clumped her eyelashes and her cheeks looked thinner, her skin sallower. I still thought her beautiful, but it was an artificial beauty now. Age was beginning to claim Rose, and instead of accepting it, bending to it and allowing her appearance to reflect it, Rosalie fought. She wore the same clothes as she ever did, fixed her make-up as she ever did. But it no longer suited her, glaring shades of eye-shadow and vibrantly painted lips where softer colours and more natural hues would be better.

And so when I stood in front of my mirror of a morning or evening, I could not help but note my fresher skin and my clearer eyes. My simple hair and clothes, my bare face. I discovered I actually preferred my simpler appearance compared to Rosalie's pomp.

And I believe others did too.

I had begun to see Edward on a fairly regular basis, whenever Alice or Rosalie would hold dinners or I would go over to Alice's for dinner. Just me.

It was one of these nights that Edward was there too. It was a weekday so Jasper was in the city. I believed the real reason for what seemed to me a rather impromptu dinner invitation was Alice's loneliness. She had still not talked to Jasper yet despite my telling her to do so often.

I was standing in the kitchen with Alice, we were both laughing at something, slightly light headed by the large glasses of red wine we were drinking. It was one of those rare moments I experienced, where I found I laughed easy and loudly. Alice always looked so delighted during these times and it would turn into a challenge to make me laugh more and more. Usually she would tell me dirty jokes. I knew I shouldn't laugh, that it was wrong and politically incorrect but with my mood so light I couldn't help myself. It was during one of these sessions, where Alice was into her stride and I was bent at the waist slightly as laughter poured from my throat like liquid gold, my eyes squeezed closed and near to tears.

"Okay so, the penis, outraged, then says....'At least your master doesn't put a bag over your head and make you do push ups until you throw up!'" Alice finished with a flourish of her hand and giggling madly. I burst out into laughter and clutched my arm around my sides. "Oh my god... no more... stop," I gasped out.

"Just one, one more please!" Alice pleaded.

"Fine one more," I allowed, placing my hand on my hip as I tried to get my breath back, grinning in anticipation.

" Okay, here's a good one." Alice cleared her throat and stared up at the ceiling, darting glances at me out of the corner of my eye as we both chuckled quietly.

"A blind man goes to an interview for a job as a quality controller at the local wood mill. The manager calls the blind man into his office and asks him how he expected to do this job since he was blind. The blind man replied he would do it by smell." I groaned at this, Alice giggled and shushed me. "The manager, deciding to test him, places a piece of wood in front of him. The manager asks, "What is it without touching it?" The blind man replies, "That's a good piece of fir." "Correct," says the manager, "Now try this one." And places another piece of wood in front of the blind man. "That's a bad piece of willow," says the blind man. "Correct," answers the manager. With that, the manager decides to play a trick on the blind man. He gets his secretary to lift up her dress and puts her crotch in the blind man's face. "I'm confused," says the blind man, "Can you turn it around?" The secretary turns around and puts her ass in his face. The blind man says, "Oh, you're trying to fool me! But I know exactly what kind of wood that is. It's the shit house door off a tuna boat!"

I broke into helpless laughter, spilling some of my wine as my arm lurched with the quaking of my body.

"Oh Alice, that's awful!" I said gleefully, both our bodies bent at the waist toward each other as we shared laughter under the dim light of her kitchen bulb. Alice just nodded as her wild cackles descended into giggling once more, her face red and her eyes shining with mirth. Something caught her eye and she burst out into laughter once more, "What?" I asked her as I turned toward the direction of her eyes. Edward stood by the open kitchen door, wide eyed and beaming, directly at me. The expression on his face was what could only be described as amazement, and even though it thoroughly confused me I didn't look away. Instead I let a huge grin steal over my face at the sight of him. Because I could, and I _wanted _to.

My laughter had dried up, but my light mood hadn't. I felt giddy for the rest of the evening, which had nothing to do with the wine and more to do with the smiles and kind attention I got from Edward, I believed.

This was about a week after the dinner at Alice and Jasper's and a few days after Alice's heart to heart with me. It was the first time I had seen him and I was glad that it was when I felt so happy, so light. Because those moments were rare and only in the company of Alice, and Edward. Edward changed slightly after that night. There was more levity in his tone and what he said, he frowned less and there was an openness to his manner which siply didn't exist before. He smiled more and his eyes would twinkle with a light that seemed to be so uniquely Edward. That half-smile appeared on his face and those green eyes turned bright as he laughed with me over another one of Alice's abundant jokes.

And then of course there were Sundays.

It started out as a coincidence, on my part I'm sure, his less so. But soon it became an unspoken arrangement that we would meet every Sunday morning in Panfish Park under a tree that I began to call in my head 'ours'. It started off a few hours, talking about books mainly. He seemed to want to know my opinion on a vast array of writers and titles, then discredit my opinion and disagree entirely. It was extremely annoying but-- I found the way in which he went about it didn't make me feel angry with him, or at least not for very long. I loved Austen, he said they were chick literature for the seventeenth century (he dismissed my argument that they were a reflection and satirism of the society of the time). I loved 'Wuthering Heights', he believed it was a dreary novel compiled of characters who were all cruel, selfish and deserved what happened to them (he didn't see love as a redeeming quality). I loved Shakespeare, but to him Shakespeare was a copyist who couldn't understand language if it slapped him across the face (I think he only said this because Tolkein thought so). But it was one Sunday as we sat under 'our' tree with the warm breeze rustling the leaves above us, a sign of the season to come, that everything took on a new and terrifying change.

We were talking about plays, we'd exhausted Chekhov and I wasn't familiar with Pinter, so we discussed Tennessee Williams. More specifically 'The Glass Menagerie'.

"So come on then, thoughts?" demanded Edward of me as he lazily scratched one of Clair's grand silken ears. I paused in contemplation, recalling as much of the play as I could. "I like it. I find Laura a poignant character."

"Not Tom?"

"Umm, well I think I identify with Tom a little, but.... Well I find Laura's situation stands out to me," I said lightly, leaning back on my elbows to watch the tree branches sway.

"What do you mean?" His interrogating tone was creeping in and I turned to see him leaning forward more, watching me with that half a smile on his face.

"Well, she's reliant on her mother, who doesn't understand her at all and her elder brother, who sees her as a burden. Even though he loves her," I replied, sitting back up and crossing my legs while playing with the zipper to my hoodie.

"Is that how you view yourself?" he asked with a sadness in his eyes that went straight through my heart. As though the idea that I could think so little of myself pained him. I disregarded the thought, shrugged my shoulders and looked away toward the lake. Suddenly I felt warm fingertips lightly touch my chin and gently turn my face back, back to Edward. He had shifted so he was sitting on his knees, looking down on me. He moved his hand so he cupped my cheek and I instantly thought back to the night of Irina's bathroom. "You aren't a burden. You are valued. Just because there are those who don't make you feel that way doesn't mean you should." He almost breathed the words, so low was his voice. The tones, ordinarily so smooth and fluid, were harsh and rough as he spoke. His face was set so earnestly, as though he truly wanted me to believe them, to take them into my heart and own them. Without realising, without choosing, I took him instead.

I couldn't accept his words, I couldn't believe them as much as he and I wanted to. But I found myself looking up into his kind face, a face I was always glad to see. Resting into his warm hand, a hand I always found comforting. And gazing into his eyes, eyes I could gaze at forever as I tried to fathom the depths. And I realised, in that frozen millisecond of time, as shafts of light shone through the pale green leaves of the tree above us that I wanted this man.

Desperately.

My breath was short and I felt my cheeks warm, my eyes widened and my mouth parted. I stared slack jawed at Edward as I absorbed the information that had appeared so overwhelmingly into my brain. I wanted Edward. In any way, in all ways. I wanted to be near to him, I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to laugh with him, I wanted to make love to him. But most predominantly in that moment, I wanted to kiss him. It would be so natural, like taking a breath, like a beat of a pulse. All I would have to do was tilt my head up and move forward. He was close and neither of us were speaking. I forgot everything that surrounded me, the fact I was in a park escaped me, Clair no longer existed. Earth no longer existed. All I saw was him, all I felt was him. Then he said my name.

"Bella...." It was quiet and soft, so tenderly spoken and so full of promise. It cut straight to my heart and Eros' arrow that had plunged there many years ago was pushed farther in. My heart was full, my back was burdened, I couldn't take anymore. So I averted my eyes, and carefully moved my face away from his hand.

"Thank you, Edward," I said, pushing my feelings down, ignoring desire and repelling want. He noticed my altered behaviour, and I hoped to God he didn't know why. I left him earlier than usual and spent the rest of the day in my room, remembering all the reasons why I didn't deserve to feel that way again. Even if Edward returned those feelings.

Subsequently every time I saw him after that day I began to examine him closely, comparing his behaviour to me with his behaviour toward others or even to my own estimation of how you act toward a friend. I watched him around Alice and Rose. I even watched him around a mother of a pupil we ran into one Sunday in the park. He ruffled his hair and darted his eyes nervously around as he talked to her. He never did that with me. He rarely spoke to Rose, their disagreement at Alice and Jasper's had resulted in a frostiness between them. And toward Alice he was much like any brother was toward a much younger sister. They teased, they bickered, he patronised and she ignored. Toward me-- he would seek my gaze, stand close. Ask me questions, ask for my opinion. Fingers would brush and I didn't know how accidental, if I needed to get something he was near to he wouldn't move. Just lean away or lift his arm. And I both loved and hated it. Moving close to him, feeling warmth from his body, inhaling his scent that clung to my clothes long after I'd left him. It sent thrills and chills through me. I didn't think I'd ever feel this way again, I didn't think it was possible. But with Edward, I was caught. Trapped and ensnared by this overwhelming tide of attraction that I desperately tried to hide from him and everyone else.

Sadly however it didn't work, as was made abundantly clear to me one day.

It was nearly five weeks after the dinner at Alice and Jasper's, and her invitation to all of us to go to her parent's wedding anniversary. We were sitting in her living room one Tuesday night, Jasper would be late home (of course) and she invited me over to watch a film.

The room was dark, the light of the television the only thing that illuminated the surroundings. The film was boring me and my attention had begun to waver. I found myself slipping into a daydream, mulling over the curious way Edward had suddenly brought up 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock'. Was it curiosity of what I thought, was it something else?

"Bella, are you even watching?" Alice asked. I snapped my head around to her.

"Ummm, no? Sorry, it's just-- not really my thing," I said regretfully to Alice.

"How can-" She leaned forward and picked the DVD box off the coffee table and read the title. " 'He's Just Not That Into You' not be your thing?" she said with an arched eyebrow and a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah I agree it's awful." She sighed and grabbed the remote to turn it off, and then she flipped through some channels before settling on a food programme. We spent the next twenty minutes getting hungry as we watched cakes bake, fish fry and chicken roast. Alice turned her head against the sofa toward me. "I'm so hungry now."

"Me too," I sighed, rubbing my stomach unconsciously.

"Shall we go get something?" she asked, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.

"Alice, it's like nine thirty. I should go soon anyway." My voice rose slightly. I had begun to enjoy hearing expression in my tone. I'd forgotten what it sounded like.

"So? Come on, Bella, I'm hungry.... so are you.... we can have more wine...." Alice trailed off as she got to her feet and pulled me up with both hands. I groaned and sluggishly followed her to the kitchen. We both blinked and grimaced as she turned on the light. She dimmed it and began rifling through her fridge. I topped up our wine.

"Ah-hah!" Alice said triumphantly, if somewhat muffled, and emerged from the icy depths of her fridge holding a partially eaten cheesecake.

"Alice, I don't know if I've told you recently but I love you," I said with total sincerity as my mouth watered and my eyes feasted on what was before them.

"You haven't but it's nice to know and I love you too," she replied primly, setting the cake down on the counter and grabbing two forks from the draining board.

We set to the cake with moans, slurping our wine and generally behaving disgustingly decadent. I loved it and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Alice asked around a mouthful of cheesecake.

"I like this. I don't want to go home. I hate home," I slurred slightly, the wine obviously beginning to get to me.

"So move out." Alice shrugged and swallowed her food, washing it down with a gulp of wine.

"I can't, haven't got any bloody money," I mumbled, frowning.

"Move in wi'me." Alice answered, giggling.

"What about Jasper?" I asked, laughter starting to creep into my words. The wine was most definitely starting to hit me and Alice too. She shrugged.

"Fuck 'im. You move in and he moves out." She leaned down on her elbow, her fork swaying haphazardly.

"Nah, I can't. Have you not talked to him yet?" I tried for concerned, but it came out nagging. My fork wasn't much steadier either.

"Nope," Alice replied and promptly shovelled a forkful of cake in her mouth. "e'sh noh in-tresh-ted," she added.

I nodded a bit too vigorously, my head spinning when I finished. I went to take a sip of wine but missed and Alice started laughing uproariously at me.

I collapsed into giggles, wiping wine off my top. The door bell rang and Alice and looked at each other.

"Oh no," she said, giggling. "I think I'm drunk, I can't answer the door," Alice whispered loudly. I stifled giggles into my hand. "You get it!" she said, standing up albeit wobbling slightly and putting her hands together in a begging gesture.

"I can't! I'm drunk too!" I whispered back, shaking my head and throwing wine on the floor.

"Please, Bella! Please, I'll love you forever!" she pleaded with wide eyes. I sighed and nodded, relenting. I plonked my glass back on the counter, grabbed a forkful of cheesecake and tried to walk as smoothly to the door as possible. However as soon as I got into the hall I saw the door opening and instantly turned around, running back into the kitchen. "Someone's coming in, they're in the hall!" I cried, forgetting to whisper. Alice stared at me wide eyed, her wine glass held up to her mouth. She swallowed noisily and lowered the glass just as said person walked into the kitchen.

My heart plummeted into my drunk chest. It was Edward.

His persistent ability to turn up just in time for me to make a fool of myself was beginning to get on my nerves. Sadly my inebriated state did not make me best prepared to deal with hiding my mounting attraction to him at such short notice and I'm certain my eyes lingered too long on the patch of his chest I could see from the open buttons of his shirt. Another plaid affair.

"Hi," I breathed. Edward looked from me, to Alice, to the wine, to the cheesecake, then back to me again.

"Uh, hi," he replied, a baffled expression on his face.

"Edward!" Alice belatedly cried, running up to him and clasping her arms around his neck as she sloppily kissed him on the cheek. Startled giggles burst from my closed lips and Edward stared down with horrified eyes at Alice.

"Ugh, Alice, you're drunk," he said with disgust. Alice moved away from him and put her hands on her hips.

"So?" she said firmly. Her back was to me but I was sure she was glaring. I turned back for my glass and sipped it quietly, settling into watching the family theatrics in front of me. Unfortunately Edward caught my movements, which admittedly were a little off in terms of depth perception and transferred his annoyance onto me.

"So are you," he said accusingly. I started, and then stared at him in shock.

"So?" I replied, echoing Alice's words.

"It's a weekday," he said in a tone that seemed to imply it was obvious. I shrugged and Alice giggled. Tripping happily back to her glass and taking a long slurp, her eyes glinted devilishly in the low kitchen light at Edward. He cleared his throat harshly and looked away, crossing his arms. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he did so and I found myself staring. I shook myself slightly and looked away.

"So to what do we owe the pleasure anyway, dear brother," Alice said sweetly.

"I came to drop off my half of the money for Mum and Dad's present," he said grumpily, glaring at Alice. I giggled at the ridiculousness but bit my lip to try and stop when that look passed over to me. I think it softened slightly, but I was too drunk to tell.

"Oh, yeah! Thanks," Alice cried, darting up to him with her hand outstretched. He sighed unhappily as he put a small brown envelope in her hand. She stood up on tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek then darted out the room with the envelope. Probably to squirrel it away in one of her many drawers. I had recently discovered Alice had a vast multitude of drawers all over the house designated for specific things that she kept meticulously ordered and tidy. She actually scolded me once when I put something in the wrong place.

Alice was gone and I became very conscious it was just Edward and I in the room, he on one side, me the other. I turned around and picked up the bottle. "Care for sum' wine Edwar'?" I offered, blinking rapidly to try and clear my vision. My legs were unsteady beneath me.

"No thanks, I have work tomorrow." I couldn't help but detect some bitterness in his voice. I smirked and bit my lip as I turned back to put it on the counter. When I faced him again he was a lot closer, actually quite close. Despite my blurred vision and my dwindling ability to tell how far away things actually were I guessed he was about a foot away.

"Whoa, hi," I said in surprise, giggling. I squinted up at him, focusing on his face.

"Bella, are you okay?" he asked, frowning.

"Yup, don' worry. Ah'm fine," I said as coherently as I could manage, before stumbling forward and rather inelegantly colliding into him.

"I think you should go lie down before you get into trouble," he chuckled. I looked up at his smiling face and completely without permission my hand glided up and rubbed his cheek. I stroked his cheekbones and caressed the apple of his cheek with my thumb.

"You 'ave very very nice cheeks," I told him earnestly. He chuckled and cleared his throat.

"Er, thank you."

"No, really, you do. Don', don' let anyon' tell u diff'ren'," I said before yawning widely. Alice stumbled through the door, grinning at the scene before her.

"Oh yeah? What's this then? Why is it neither of you two can keep your hands to yourself when you've had a drink?" she said, giggling.

"No, it's no' like tha'! Tell, her Edwa'. I was only tellin' him I liked his cheeks. I wouldn' kiss, him, 'onessly. I wouldn' do tha'," I said fervently, shaking my head while I still clutched his cheek, my body pressed to his.

"Alice, I think she should go to bed. You too, actually," he said firmly.

"Nah, nah, I'm fine! Don' wanna go to bed," I protested, ruining it by letting out a jaw achingly big yawn and slumping on Edward with my eyes closed. I felt myself being moved, but found myself losing track of where I was and who with. I saw flashes of floor, of rooms. I heard snatches of words and hands on me, covers laid on me. And a press of warm lips to my forehead.

I woke the next day to find a large tumbler of water on the bedside table of Alice's spare room and a groaning Alice downstairs.

I fell on her couch and laid my aching head in her lap.

"I feel awful, how much did we drink?" I asked Alice with a cracked voice and hoarse throat.

"Judging from the kitchen, we ate and drank our weight in cheesecake and wine. Finish your water, your voice sounds awful." Alice wasn't coping with her hangover well it seemed. She ran her fingers gently through my hair though and we sat immobile on the sofa until we felt we could move without cheesecake erupting from our mouths.

I climbed into my truck with a purse full of Tylenol a few hours later. I knew Rose and Emmett wouldn't be home so I could steal home in peace. I was slightly hurt they hadn't called to see why I hadn't come home, though. I was thinking back on mine and Alice's Chardonnay and Cheesecake Bonanza when with horrific clarity memories of my hand on Edward's cheek, his chest pressed close to me and his hands on my arms barraged my brain. I jumped out my truck and ran back to Alice's house, ignoring the lurching of my still fragile stomach. I shoved the door open and ran into the living room where Alice sat on the phone to someone.

"Oh my fucking god Alice, did I really tell your brother he had nice cheeks?" I cried.

"Uh, I have to go, Mom, but we'll all see you next week and I'll ask Bella about coming up early with me." She clicked off the phone, placed it on the coffee table and turned in her seat toward me.

"Yes, Bella, I'm afraid you did." she stated soberly.

"Well, shit," I said weakly, sinking down onto the couch next to Alice. "What the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

If Edward hadn't realised my fledging attraction to him, which I'd spent weeks desperately trying to conceal, he definitely did now.

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**A/N: I am really fucking terrified now....**

**Be kind and review?  
**


	16. This I Have No Name For

**A/N: Finally an update, nearly a month exactly. Odd.**

**Hope you like I was meh.**

**Thank you thank you thank you to cdunbar, JeNnNn, jennday and wickedcicada.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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16. This I Have No Name For

'_in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,_

_or which i cannot touch because they are too near'_

'_somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond' by e e cummings_

The light in Rose's bathroom was stark, as always. It glared and illuminated the brilliant white tiled walls leaving no blemish concealed. No pore of my face was indistinguishable. I stood stiff before the mirror, and with a relaxed expression, contemplated my reflection. The harsh light tinged my skin with grey, the shadows beneath my eyes as dark as bruises.

I then pulled my mouth up into an exhilarated and garish smile. I quirked my eyebrows, bared my teeth, and pouted seductively before letting my muscles relax and settle into that non-expression I had perfected. I looked pallid and plain, nothing interesting or noteworthy about me. I wasn't ugly, pretty, beautiful or grotesque. I was just… nothing. But then I contracted a muscle in my face, a simple tug of the corner of my mouth or eyebrow and I looked more… interesting. Not more attractive, just more noticeable. Not quite so bland anymore. I relaxed my face again, looked at my horribly vacant expression and left the bathroom. I turned off the light as I left and cast the room into dormant darkness.

Going into my bedroom, I got dressed; I had just showered. A normal shower with warm to hot water. No standing in freezing cold or boiling hot water just to see if I felt it today. I had stopped the tests completely. I no longer pinched my skin between metal clips or held ice to my skin. Sensation had not fully returned and there were moments when the very hot or cold object I was holding didn't register. But those were usually when I was around Rose or Emmett, or any other occasion when I needed to shut my brain off to retain my sanity. However, I decided I didn't _want_ to do the tests anymore because I felt like my life was changing and moving forward. My attitude was no longer focused on ignoring life and just tunnelling my way through it on my own. I was now aware of the future, my future. One day I would be middle aged, a grown woman nearly halfway through her life. I couldn't be living with Rose forever, ignoring what I didn't want to think about, clinging to the past but shunning it with equal force.

I wasn't quite ready yet, but I was getting there. And I had begun to think about my future.

My future that day, however, lied with meeting Edward in the park under our tree and then driving to Alice's parents' house with her. We were taking my truck because her tiny sports car couldn't possibly hold both of our luggage. Alice had wanted to leave this morning, but I had suggested later because I wanted to see Edward before we went. It had been three days since Thursday night at Alice's where I had completely humiliated myself. I needed to clear the air between us before I left and I really didn't want the next time I saw him to be at his parents. I was nervous enough as it was, not only to be staying in a stranger's house for about a week, but also because of who those strangers were; Edward's parents. I chose not to think about why I so badly wanted them to like me. Especially his mother.

I left the house quietly. Rose was in her room and Emmett was out. There had been a heated argument between them this morning, about what I didn't know. It took place in their room and all I could here was the hissing of Rose's voice and the harsh brusqueness of Emmett's. He stormed out of the house around ten o'clock. Now it was an hour and a half later, and he hadn't returned and Rose had not left her room. Arguments between Rose and Emmett, while not exactly rare, were still infrequent and I thought it best to make myself as scarce as possible.

My walk to the park was quiet. Since I had left at an earlier hour than usual, I passed few people. I pushed up the sleeves of my jumper when I was halfway there, starting to perspire from the warmer weather. By the time I reached the park I had taken off my jumper and was feeling uncomfortably hot and flustered, not thinking this was a result of nerves about seeing Edward but rather still chalking it up to the weather.

Luckily a quick scan over to "our" tree showed I was first to arrive and I hurried over to sit under it, preparing myself before he arrived. I rolled up my jeans to my knees to help, thanking whoever was lurking up there in the sky that I had remembered to shave my legs in the shower.

He arrived ten minutes later. Clair ran over and flopped down onto the grass, and partially onto me, which caused me to look up sharply. I shielded my eyes with my hand, blinking as I looked up at him, a slight smile on my face. The sun blazing behind him created a silhouette and it wasn't until he was sitting next to me, Clair not between us as he usually was, that I saw he had a huge smile on his face and his eyes were positively shining.

"Uh, hi," I said, certain that he was laughing at me.

"Hello," he replied in that slow, deep voice of his. He always sounded like he was still deciding on what to say as he said it, and I found myself staring at his lips as they formed the word so carefully. I averted my face, darted my eyes away and busied myself with scratching Clair's ears furiously to hide my red cheeks. I felt them grow hot and frowned as I recognised the lifelong familiarity of my fucking default reaction to blush at the slightest thing.

"How was your head Friday morning?" I heard Edward cheerfully ask. I reluctantly turned back to face him, only to see him grinning. Something I had never _ever_ seen him do. Unless completely and utterly drunk of course.

"Um—it was fine. Not bad. Slight headache, tenderish stomach. Been worse…" I trailed off, hesitant and confused as to Edward's behaviour. I had noticed a slight change in the past few weeks but at the moment the good humour he was radiating could knock someone out. If he was anything like his sister, he was plotting some way to poke fun at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and went on the defensive.

"Good. From the state of the kitchen it looked like you'd drunk a bottle and a half each. It's easy to do, Alice's wine glasses are the size of goldfish bowls," he replied, still smiling sunnily.

"Yeah… So it goes without saying that that thing I said to you was a complete by-product of the drunkenness, right?" I said in my most serious voice. His smile didn't waver; he simply relaxed against the tree trunk. I could feel his arm resting against mine, the heat from his body nearly scorching me. I scowled at my sudden urge to turn around and _snuggle_ into him. It didn't matter if he was wearing a really soft looking shirt and he was broad enough that it would be like having a large pillow to rest on, I _could not _and _must not _give in to this ridiculous attraction I found myself harbouring. Instead I shifted away.

"Yes, of course, don't worry. It was hard to ignore the fact of how drunk you were, when I could smell the evidence of it on your breath. You were quite close to me. I still appreciated the compliment, though. It's not often I get complimented on my cheeks," he reassured me before laughing under his breath and lowering his head, but I saw his eyes glint mischievously at me. I hastily stood up and crossly retorted, "Yeah well, you were quite close to me too. If I remember right you put _your_ arms around _me_!" At this Edward stood up too, no longer smiling. He actually looked quite annoyed and I took a step back from him.

"Only because you fell on me!" he pointed accusingly at me. I looked down at Clair, who looked up at me, and then Edward, before deciding to lope off somewhere more peaceful.

I huffed and crossed my arms. "Look, I was drunk. You of all people know you can't be held accountable for your actions when you're drunk."

"You're one to talk. If you truly believed that, why did you give me such a hard time? And I wasn't accusing you of anything! You brought it up!" Edward's voice had risen considerably in outrage and his eyebrows had disappeared under the swathe of dark hair that rested over his forehead.

"You've been laughing at me ever since you got here!"

"What, the two minutes I've been here? Did you not think maybe it's because I was happy to see you? That I actually enjoy your company?!" The look of puzzlement on his face and his tone made me think he was genuinely confused to my reaction, but I still felt he was laughing at me and I shrugged uncomfortably. I couldn't believe that inane grin when he arrived was only because he was happy to see me.

"You clearly don't agree. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think I was laughing at you. I'm not, honestly I'm not. Look." I had turned to stare moodily out at the lake but looked back when told to. He pointed with both hands at his face as he looked almost pleadingly at me to believe him. His face solemn, his eyes still twinkling. Involuntarily my mouth curved up into a smile and the corner of his mouth quirked up into his regular smile.

"Okay," I said sheepishly and then settled back down onto the grassy floor. Edward returned to his seat beside me, but not as close this time. I found myself wishing he could sit nearer, for it to be natural and acceptable for me to rest my head on his shoulder. To feel his arm around me. It was with a start I realized I hadn't felt a man hold me to his side in a very long time. I missed the comfort, the security of it. I missed feeling wanted.

A nudge to my shoulder brought me back. Edward looked down on me curiously.

"What?" I asked.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he answered.

"Oh, they aren't worth the money," I flippantly replied with a careless smile.

"I think they are," he insisted. I looked up at him, confused by his persistence.

"It's nothing really. Just random crap people think about," I said, shrugging awkwardly and hugging my knees to my body.

"And yet it absorbed you so much?" he reasoned calmly, unruffled by my attempts at evasion.

There was no way in hell I was going to tell him how I was wishing he would hug me. Not only because it sounded really fucking stupid, but because it _was_ really fucking stupid. I decided to deflect.

"Hey, so, did you like Antony and the Johnson's?" We had started to explore each other's musical tastes. He was introducing me to obscure folk music and I was introducing him to obscure indie music.

"Don't change the subject. I did like it, though. And I have a couple of CDs with me for you as well," he said, amused.

"Oh, really? What?" I innocently replied, choosing to ignore his jibe.

"Candie Payne and Nick Cave. I'm broadening your horizons." He poked my nose playfully and I blushed like a fool.

"I know who Nick Cave is, thank you very much," I replied, grinning cheekily.

"How much have you heard?" he demanded.

"Um… I like the song he did in Shrek 2?" I squinted up at him, my face completely red with embarrassment now. He laughed at my confession and patted the hand that I was leaning back on.

"Well, this is his last album. You'll like it." I scowled at his slightly superior tone and swatted at his shoulder.

"Ass," I muttered. He only laughed again.

"Oh, I forgot. I've been meaning to give you this for weeks. Here." Edward handed me a much creased folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and read it, or rather deciphered it, due to the spidery style of his writing.

O Make Me A Mask

O make me a mask and a wall to shut from your spies  
Of the sharp, enameled eyes and the spectacled claws  
Rape and rebellion in the nurseries of my face,  
Gag of a dumbstruck tree to block from bare enemies  
The bayonet tongue in this undefended prayerpiece,  
The present mouth, and the sweetly blown trumpet of lies,  
Shaped in old armour and oak the countenance of a dunce  
To shield the glistening brain and blunt the examiners,  
And a tear-stained widower grief drooped from the lashes  
To veil belladonna and let the dry eyes perceive  
Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses  
By the curve of the nude mouth or the laugh up the sleeves.

Dylan Thomas

"You said you'd find it at Alice and Jasper's the first time I went to dinner there. You remembered?" I asked him; he'd read it over my shoulder so I turned to look up at him. I couldn't help feeling that flicker of wanting to lean back to rest against him.

"Yes, well, I actually found it about four weeks ago but kept on forgetting." He looked mildly embarrassed, which only made me smile warmly at this flaw he found so humiliating. Embarrassment on Edward was so incongruous; he so often looked self assured that seeing him anything but just looked strange. And much to my chagrin, slightly adorable.

"Thanks," I replied, folding it back up and sliding it into my jeans pocket. I had to lean back and arch slightly and I bumped into Edward's chest in the process. A thrill ran through me at that slight contact, and I knew I was a lost case.

"What did you think?" he asked, moving around to my side and turning inward. I mirrored him so we faced each other. He bent one leg toward his body, while the other leg was folded up so he could rest an arm on his knee. I could see him slipping back into overeager English literature professor, which was good because I liked seeing him so animated.

"It's good. I think I get it," I answered, nodding indulgently, enjoying his enthusiasm and inquisitiveness.

"But did you relate to it? Is that true for you?" He leant forward and I suddenly wondered by the look in his eyes if maybe he wasn't eager to discuss poetry. Maybe he was digging.

"I—don't know," I said uncertainly. I began to feel uncomfortable, unsure as to what Edward's motives were.

"Please, Bella. Talk to me. I just want to understand you more. You've opened up so much, maybe if you talked about—" Edward broke off as I hastily stood. My hands flapped around me as I found myself panicking and my eyes watering.

"Edward, stop please. I don't—I can't. Why does everyone always want me to fucking talk? Talk, talk, talk. It's as if they think there's something wrong with me because I know when to keep my mouth shut. Some things can't get fixed by talking about them, Edward. And it is no one's business either. I get it all the time from Rose. The worn expressions, like she doesn't know what to do with me. I'm sick of people making me feel so fucking guilty all the time! Isn't it enough that I work through it at _my_ pace? I mean, I am aware of it all, y'know. I just—I just—" I stopped as I found my words getting swallowed up by gulping sobs, my hands were held out before me in a hopeless gesture. Edward stood in front of me, his hands outstretched as if he didn't know what to do. When I began to cry, loudly and freely, he pulled me into his arms and I just let myself sink into the comfort of his touch and warmth. My arms went around his waist as he stroked my back, and gradually my eyes dried and my sobbing quietened.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a couple of minutes. Neither of us moved away. "I shouldn't have pried. I just want to help."

"You do help. By not badgering me, by letting me be. By just, being such a good friend to me," I replied fervently. I heard him sigh heavily, and I worried I'd said the wrong thing. "You do think we're friends, don't you?" I whispered fearfully. There was a pause before Edward replied in a rough voice.

"Yes, of course I do, Bella. You're a good friend." He sighed again, and lowered his face so he rested on the crown of my head. I moved my face so my cheek no longer rested flat against his chest but rather my entire face hid in the dip of his breastbone. I tightened my arms around him and smiled when he did the same to me. I didn't know when I would be held like this again, never mind by a man I actually wanted, so I decided to savour it while I could.

Eventually, though, we had to move apart. Clair came over and kept nudging my butt. I sighed and looked up at Edward. He smiled tightly down at me.

"You okay now? Am I forgiven?" he asked. I laughed and nodded. The smile melted off his face and he turned thoughtful. Still holding me, he regarded me very seriously, then carefully and cautiously leant forward toward me. I felt sure he was going to kiss my lips. My eyes widened and my mind cleared of all rational thought. But at the last moment he moved across and softly and languorously kissed my cheek. His kiss lingered and before he moved away I could feel his breath ghosting across my neck and ear in a way that made me shiver delightfully. When he was standing straight again he peered curiously down at me, gauging my reaction. Which was probably like a slack-jawed loon. I felt my cheeks burn and quickly disentangled myself from him.

"Well, we better go home. I mean, our own homes. I—I have packing to do and you probably have marking or shit. So yeah, umm. I'll see you in a few days. Bye." I grabbed my bag and hastily walked off, stumbling on my way up the hill to the path. I turned back to see Edward scratching his head, probably trying to figure out my insanity.

It was really quite pathetic how much a simple kiss on the cheek flustered me. Even though I suspected it wasn't that simple of a kiss.

My walk home took half the time it usually did at the speed I was going and I was sure the wattage from my cheeks could power Rose's house for a year. I couldn't stop the secret smile that crept across my face as I remembered Edward's lips on my cheek and the sensual way he had grazed the tip of his nose across my cheekbone as he straightened back up. I reached up and gently touched my cheek in the spot he had kissed me, wondering what it meant, and if he'd do it again.

My daydreams came to an abrupt end when I arrived home and stepped through the front door. Emmett still wasn't home, so I hadn't returned to him and Rose having another row. But I was welcomed by the sound of Rose bitterly crying.

She sat on the sofa, hands clutching her head and her shoulders shaking dramatically.

"Rose?" I said cautiously.

"What?" I heard her reply harshly, albeit slightly sniffily.

"What's wrong?" I asked, walking further into the room but still keeping behind Rose.

"You wouldn't understand," she spat bitterly.

"Try me." I stood beside the arm of the sofa and saw her rumpled profile. Her hair was scruffily tied up, her cheeks red and blotchy. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her eyes were swollen and red rimmed.

"I'm on," she ground out between tense lips.

"On what?" I looked confusedly at her, cocking my head slightly.

"My period!she cried exasperatedly, shooting her hands out to gesture at me.

"Oh. Well, I know what PMS can be like. I am a girl after all," I tried to joke, bring some levity back. Rose being moody and unreasonable was something I could deal with. And I'd suffered through years of her bitchy period-induced moods.

"It's not PMS. I don't want to be on my period," she said sullenly[L1] , sinking back into her seat and curling her arms around her stomach.

"Well, I don't think anyone really does," I said lightly, moving to sit in the armchair. I remembered my rolled up jeans and occupied myself by pulling them back down. Rose sighed heavily.

"Bella, no, you don't understand—I'm not _supposed_ to be on my period." She turned to look dejectedly at me, her face lined and puckered in misery. Realization dawned starkly on me.

"Oh. I see." I hunched awkwardly, uncertain as to what to do.

"Yeah." She looked down.

"How long have you been trying?" I ventured gently.

"A year and a half," came the bitter reply. I nodded glumly.

"You never said."

"_You_ never say anything," she countered, looking up at me with accusation in her eyes. Daring me to blame her for her silence.

"Fair point," I conceded quietly. Rose sighed again, and I watched her face crease as more tears ran down her face. I moved quickly to her side and put my arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, even though I was not the maternal sort Rose always was. And her acute misery was proof of how important it was to her.

"I think there's something wrong with me," she said, agony so deeply engrained in her voice that I winced.

"There might not be, there might be a way round it," I said, trying to soothe her. I rubbed her arm and rested my chin on her shoulder like I used to do when we were younger. She shook her head.

"It's me, I know it's me," she said confidently.

"You can adopt, though, or get a surrogate," I pointed out.

"It's not the same. I don't want a baby that way. I want to carry it myself." She removed an arm from around her middle to wipe at her nose. I slipped my arm to her waist and hugged her; she moved an arm to return the embrace. "Is that what you were arguing with Emmett about this morning?" I asked carefully, not sure if she wanted to talk about it.

"No, I refused to go with therapy with him today," she said, shaking her head.

"Why?" I lifted my head to get a better look at her face. Her colour was starting to return to normal.

"I just didn't feel like it. I don't know if it's worth it anymore. Maybe I've gone as far as I can go. I understand things, there's no point talking about it anymore." She sniffed and began to smooth her pants, even though she was wearing sweats[L2] . I nodded in agreement. That was what I had always believed about myself.

"Emmett disagrees?" I asked. She nodded in reply.

"He's going to be devastated." Her face screwed up again and I grasped her tightly, turning my face into her shoulder again.

"It'll be okay, Rose," I said, not really sure what I should say. What do you say to someone who's been trying for a baby for a year and a half with no luck, and no chance of it ever happening? Get a dog?

"Have you been to see a doctor?" I questioned.

"No, I always suspected it was never possible but I—I never wanted the verification." Her voice shook and she sniffed violently again. I rested my other hand in her lap and she held it tightly. I couldn't think of anything to say to comfort her, there was nothing I could say. I held her hand and hugged her middle instead. Where words failed, actions spoke for me.

We sat together peacefully for awhile until a realization dawned on me, one that didn't make me shrink away. Rather, I smiled broadly.

"Rose, have you noticed?" I whispered excitedly.

"What?" she whispered back, amusement in her voice.

"I'm not hiding how I feel." My voice rose to a stage whisper. Rose pulled back and looked at me before murmuring an affirmation in her throat and settling back to how we were.

"Nearly," she said.

"What?" I said in surprise.

"Your eyes are still a bit blank. And sometimes your voice sounds flat," she answered.

"Oh." A little part of me deflated and I slumped into the seat even more so. My head rested even heavier on Rose's shoulder.

"It's still good though," she added softly, rubbing my arm consolingly. I smiled. It felt nice to be on better terms with Rose again. Even if I wasn't back to being an open book around her, I was at least capable of showing most emotion. And I suspected it was best that way.

"What's the time?" I asked her. She looked at her watch.

"Half past three, why?" she replied. I loosened myself from her and stood up, aching from the position I'd held for so long.

"I need to go pack. Alice and I are leaving at four fifteen." I began to walk toward the stairs but Rose stopped me.

"Do you want me to help?" I turned back and saw her looking at me uncertainly. My first reaction was to say no but such vulnerability in her face made me accept. I didn't want to make her feel worse.

"Yeah, sure, ok." We walked up to my bedroom and I heaved a smallish suitcase out from under my bed, unzipped it and flopped it open onto my bed. We spent the next half hour packing, me pulling everything out and Rose folding it neatly into my case. She was always anally neat and tidy, so I felt that job suited her best.

At four on the dot, Rose helped me downstairs with my case and saw me out the door.

"I'll see you Thursday night," she said as she hugged my goodbye.

"Okay, I'll see you then. Call me if you want to talk, okay?" I looked her sternly in the eye, she nodded and smiled.

"I will, don't worry." She kissed me on the cheek and I slung my case in the back of my truck, climbed in and drove off. My tires squealed madly along the streets to make sure I got there the stipulated ten minutes early. Why Alice wanted me to be ten minutes early I didn't know, but it was best I did what I was told.

I arrived there five minutes early and ran up the garden path, swearing all the way. "Fuckshitbollockscrappitycrapcrap." I pushed on the door, knowing it would be open and ran into the house calling out, "I'm sorry I'm late, Alice. There was a sister related emergency." I stopped dead in my tracks when I got in the kitchen and found, not Alice alone or maybe even Jasper as I thought. But Alice, Jasper, Edward and Emmett. I wasn't sure who I should have cringed more upon seeing – Edward, who I ran away from today or Emmett, who would probably be very curious about said emergency.

"Thank God, finally you're here. Let's get my stuff in the truck," Alice declared, who I noticed looked a bit annoyed. Actually, quite annoyed. I nodded guiltily. Edward looked like he was smirking and really too attractive for such an uncomfortably hot kitchen while Emmett looked amused. But then he often did. As Alice pulled me out, I nodded a hello to the guys, who returned with various responses of nods, raised hands and "Hi"s or in Jasper's case, "Howdy" for some reason. I ran upstairs with Alice and helped her lug down two very heavy cases. Deceptively heavy, considering their diminutive size.

"Fucking hell, Alice, what are you planning on wearing for the next week? Bricks?" She merely laughed and told me to stop being fashionably retarded. I told her to shut it. We finally managed to toss her cases in the back, which she didn't take too kindly to but it was the only way I could see of doing it. The men stayed in the kitchen and I snorted at the subversion of the stereotype. When I told Alice she replied with, "There's no challenging of stereotypes, Bella, they're just lazy. If anything, it's confirming it."

We returned to the kitchen where the men were talking about their next hunting trip. Well, only Emmett and Jasper, really. Edward stood away from them, looking out the window. When we walked back into the room, their conversation halted.

"So is this you off now?" Jasper asked Alice, holding out his arm so she could stand by his side. She pecked him on the cheek.

"Yeah, I'll see you Thursday?" A frown crossed Jasper's face.

"Aw shit, I'm sorry. Didn't I tell you? I can't make Thursday. I'll be up Friday night." A look of pained regret crossed his face as Edward snorted and Jasper threw him a sharp look. Alice pulled away from him.

"Fine, okay. I'll see you then," she sighed, obviously disappointed. Jasper looked genuinely sorry, but clearly not sorry enough to try and change it. Edward, however, wasn't going to give up.

"Why can't you make Thursday, Jasper?" he demanded. Jasper turned startled toward Edward.

"They won't let me have the time off," he calmly replied.

"Surely you have lots of vacation days stored up. You haven't taken any in a while," Edward reasoned.

"It doesn't work like that, they need me."

"But it's important to Alice. You could let them know they can reach you by phone any time. But you can't be there. And no offence, Jasper, but I know about your job and… I don't think there would be much of a difference between your physical presence and being able to reach you by phone. I mean, you're just a consultant, aren't you?" Edward's tone had descended into mocking and the air rippled with tension. Alice was looking between Jasper and Edward while Emmett frowned at Edward. I just felt uncomfortable and desperately wanted to back out of the room.

"Just what exactly are you trying to say, Edward?" Jasper asked, his voice dangerously low. He crossed his arms and stood with his back ramrod straight.

"Nothing, Jasper, nothing at all," Edward nonchalantly replied, stalking past Jasper to Alice. He bent to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll see you in a week, but I'll probably talk to you sooner," he said warmly, smiling and pinching her cheek. With her back to me, I couldn't see her face but heard her answer. "Okay, Edward," was spoken very quietly, and Jasper had a look of sadness on his face as he looked at her. Before the air became too uncomfortable Emmett cleared his throat and walked up to me.

"See you in a week then, Bella," he said cheerfully, patting me on the arm. I looked up at him slightly dazed, confused at the display I'd just witnessed.

"Uh, yeah. Okay, see ya, Emmett." I gave him a small smile and he started slightly. "Oh, and I think you need to have a chat with Rose. She got some bad news today," I added. A shadow passed his face and I thought he knew what I alluded to. He nodded gravely and whispered, "I think I better go then." I nodded and he turned to the others to say goodbye, not lingering too long. He left swiftly, Jasper still calling out to remind him to call him about the new rifle Emmett needed to get when we heard the door close.

Alice sighed and turned back to me, a solemn expression on her face.

"We better go, Bella," she said wearily. Jasper turned away, which made Edward scowl at him.

"Okay. Bye Jasper, bye Edward," I said, avoiding Edward's eye. Alice left first and I followed her, I heard someone behind me and turned to see Edward and Jasper following us out. Once outside Jasper went around to the passenger side and helped Alice up. He tried to kiss her but she turned her head at the last minute and he caught the top of her head awkwardly. He stepped down and she busied herself rummaging around in her bag. I moved to clamber up into the driver's seat but a hand on my wrist stopped me.

"Is Rose okay?" Edward asked me, removing his hand.

"Not really," I answered honestly.

"I'm sorry. I'll keep an eye out for her at work if you want," he offered, a good-natured smile on his face. I reached out and touched his upper arm.

"Thanks, but it's okay. It's for her and Emmett to sort out. There's nothing I can do. I'm sure things will be okay." He took my hand from his arm and held it, covering it with his other one.

"Okay. There's something else though, Bella." He looked down and started rubbing the top of my hand.

"What?" I prodded.

"My father, he—Just don't worry about what he says sometimes, okay? Especially to do with me. Don't pay attention to what he says about me." [L3] Edward looked up at me and pinned me with an urgent expression, I nodded and squeezed our clasped hands. He gave me a slight smile and breathed a sigh. I began to pull my hand out, but before I was quite free he tightened his hold and tugged me toward him. I became very aware that Alice and Jasper could see us and was about to say something when I felt Edward cup my cheek and kiss the other with that same tantalizingly long kiss that felt like a caress on my skin and sent shivers down my spine. Our eyes locked as he pulled away, his nose and forehead brushing against me.

It seemed like this had become a common thing between us, a kiss on the cheek goodbye. The giddy grin spreading across my face told me I quite liked it, even though I was sure my head would give me a sound scolding later. He released my hand and I clumsily climbed into my truck. I heard him chuckle as my foot slipped. And even though Alice appeared to be absorbed in her magazine, I saw her bite her lip and dart a look at me. I poked my tongue out at her in response. I finally managed to get in my seat and we set off, the guys waving me out the drive even though I was capable. I only barely scraped their mailbox, which was _much_ too close to their drive so it wasn't my fault.

Once on the road Alice put away her magazine and turned toward me with an excited expression.

"So, three hours to kill. What do you want to do?" I asked her.

"Did I ever tell you the one about the guy who cums when he sneezes?" she replied with a devilish glint in her eye. I laughed and hoped to God I managed to get us to her parents in one piece.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it, some developments there and more to come. We're gearing up to the conclusion of the first story arc.**

**Oh and thank so much for the response last chapter, the most reviews tath has ever got! Wow, thank you very much!**

**Congratulations to Leon McFrenchington and Rosette-Cullen for receiving 1st, 2nd and 3rd place in mine and cdunbar's contest.**

**Speaking of I wrote an entry to the 'For the Love of Jasper' contest entitiled 'Man of War'. Canon JPOV if you're interested.**

**And I started a collection of canon one shots called 'Worn on a Sleeve'. Bella and Carlisle so far.**

**Thank you for your time....**


	17. Esme

**A/N: I'm not dead, unwell or missing. Real Life occurred in abundance and then I found myself without internet access for a very long time. Here is a short but significant chapter to ease myself back in for those of you still out there.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any poetry written by Sylvia Plath or anything written by Stephenie Meyer.  
**

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17. Esme

"_But in twenty five years she'll be silver,_

_In fifty, gold._

_A living doll, everywhere you look_

_It can sew, it can cook,_

_It can talk, talk, talk."_

_The Applicant by Sylvia Plath_

Alice was getting very annoyed, and as a consequence so was I. With all the bitching and grumbling she'd been doing for the past fifteen minutes I was just about ready to pull over, kick her out and tell her to walk. Although as I was relying on her for directions I was just going have to put up with it and control myself. As long as she shut the hell up.

It had started off fine, she'd been cheeky, merry and well; Alice. We'd chatted, laughed and generally forgot all about the other crap and just enjoyed each others company. But as soon as we hit the (whatever it's called) she'd gotten increasingly more and more annoyed with my truck, and my driving.

"How can you even own a truck this old? Where the hell did you find it?" She said darkly to me, slumped back into the seat with her eyes narrowed. However the jolting of my truck tossed her up and down, ruining her attempt to be taken seriously. I laughed before answering.

"I found it in Glen Ellyn actually, when I first moved. And it's not that old. 1984 thank you very much." I said primly.

"More like 1904...." I ignored her jibe and concentrated on driving. I was careful of my speed, constantly checking the speedometer. There was a time I was reluctant to drive at all, even more so to get in a car. My father had understood.

But when I moved to Glen Ellyn I had passed a truck for sale as I was exploring the town. A white 1984 Chevrolet Scottsdale. At first I had baulked and avoided the street, but I couldn't stop thinking about it, and rather than becoming another unwelcome haunting reminder of what was, it became a comfort. I bought it with my first pay-check writing the horoscopes and the savings I'd stored up working various jobs ever since I was fourteen.

It guzzled gas, was incredibly loud and had no suspension at all. But I loved it, cared for it and drove it rarely.

This trip was the longest it had ever taken, and if it could make it this far, maybe it could go a bit further. When the time was right.

Alice found my slow driving annoying, the jolting of my truck infuriating and it's inability to block out the sound of the road unacceptable. I could sympathize but her constant criticisms were starting to wear and right in the middle of one of her rants at how she would willingly have taken no luggage at all if it meant we could have gone in her car I interrupted her and changed the subject,

"Seriously Bella, I'd throw the fucking case out the win-" Her arms held up in a miming throwing action toward the window, her head towards me with wide serious eyes.

"Why would Edward tell me not to listen to what his father says about him?" My tone was light, enquiring. But my hands convulsively gripped the steering wheel, the only indication of how much I wanted to hear the answer to my question.

Alice whipped her head round to face forward and shut her open mouth with a snap. I returned my eyes to the road ahead, a light rain had begun to fall. Descending on the zooming cars like a mist as evening rolled around.

"Dad can be very harsh about Edward that's all." Alice said finally after a long moment of silence. I switched my windscreen wipers on and thought about her answer.

"Why?" I asked, narrowing my eyes on the road ahead as the rain grew heavier.

"Dad struggles with disappointment." Her voice was quiet and out of the corner of my eye I could see she had turned to look out her window, her hands gripping each other in her lap.

I opened my mouth to ask another question but found my voice had gone, I swallowed and took a breath before trying again.

"Most fathers do." My voice came out rough and my eyes felt wet. I blinked them away and tried to ignore the turbulence of my emotions.

Alice switched the radio on and we spent the rest of the drive listening to an old country station, both lost in our thoughts and completely silent. Aside from the few comments Alice made to me about which turning to take.

About what Alice was thinking I guessed it to be Jasper or her Mom.

I thought about Edward.

I knew so much and yet so little about him. I knew what he liked, what he disliked. What would fire him up or calm him down. I knew exactly how he thought and how he acted, without even realising. I found the way I acted around him was always a reflection of his mood. If he seemed sombre I would try to cheer him, if he was happy I would bask in it.

But there was still so much unknown about him. He had still not talked about his wife to me, yet the way he acted sometimes made me believe it _must _be due to grief. He would slip into broodful silences if topics strayed toward marriage, and I saw him play with his wedding band when agitated. In those moments I would chastise myself for the softening of my feelings towards him, when he so clearly still loved his wife, but I...

He was not meant for me.

It was with melancholy spirits Alice and I pulled into her parents' drive, a wealthy looking neighbourhood about three hours from Glen Ellyn. Gravel crunched under my tyres as I pulled up to the tall, dark imposing house. I turned off my ignition and peered out of the windscreen at Mr and Mrs Cullens' sprawling property. The house was a huge black blot against the dark blue sky, the house situated in the middle of a huge lawn edged with dense forestry that could easily make you think you were in the middle of the wood if it weren't for the distant drone of the highway the other side of the trees.

Alice hopped out the truck and I heard her grunt of effort as she tugged her case out. I followed behind her with a start as I tore my wide eyes away from the enormity I was faced with. Together we lugged our cases up to the front step and Alice rapped quickly on the door, her face brighter at seeing her parents soon. She shot me an easy smile which although intended to, did not settle my nerves in any way. My breaths came out in shallow pants and my palms grew clammy as we waited for the door to open.

Finally the door opened, as I tried to focus on the why I was so nervous rather than the feelings of nerves themselves, the heavy green door pulled open to reveal a tall shadowy figure so similar in stature to Edward I gulped. I knew it wasn't but I suddenly wished so very much it _was_ him.

Alice rushed at the figure, clamping her arms around him. I heard a chortle and the man's arms came around her hugging her tightly to him. She pulled back and I could see, who I presumed to be her father due to the startling likeness to Edward, beaming down at her.

She turned round to me, with the giddy, merry smile I always associated with Alice and beckoned me forward into the hall.

"Bella this is my uncle, Carlisle. Carlisle this is my friend Bella." She neatly made the introduction, gestured towards first Carlisle then myself with her hand and stood back to observe our meeting. I however just stood there with my mouth wide open thinking I'd just wandered onto the set of a soap opera. Not only was the man standing in front of me very handsome for someone in their late fifties, he was also the blond version of Edward. Right down to the eyes.

I dreaded to think how many closets this family needed for their skeletons.

"I'm very pleased to meet you." Carlisle said politely, a bemused expression on his face in reaction to my frozen stance.

"Likewise." I replied dazedly. Carlisle smiled kindly then pulled our cases in and stood them by the broad staircase which took up most of the hall.

"Everyone's in the living room." he said and turned to lead the way, Alice by his side and me following behind mired in confusion.

We passed shining pictures and mirrors through hallways too dark to make much out in, and as Carlisle and Alice chatted I searched for answers. Either this was Edward's mother's or father's twin or-- Edward's paternity was questionable. It would certainly explain the stark differences in personality between Edward and Alice.

We reached a worn wooden door which Carlisle pushed open with a creak and inside nestled on sofas on opposite sides of the room were two people. Edward's mother and--father.

Edward's father was tall like Carlisle and judging from the nose and shape face clearly brothers. In terms of biological fatherhood my money was still on Carlisle though. Alice had her father's eyes and smile, a neat looking grin that hid the bottom teeth and showed a glimpse of the top. He was not as lean as Carlisle and he looked the elder. His dark brown hair had streaks of grey threaded through, the only trait he appeared to share with Edward.

"This is my father, Charles Cullen." Alice said, turned slightly to me. "Dad, this is Bella." He rose and walked with an easy swagger towards me. His grin melted into a slow smile and he gently shook my hand. "I've heard much about you young lady. Nice to finally put a face to the name." He said with a piercing stare that seemed to go right through my skin, deep into my bones. He released my hand and slowly stepped back, but his gaze lingered and I grew red under his scrutiny.

"And this is my mother Esme." Alice declared in a thin voice, she moved aside so I could walk across the room to her mother. I could see from the door it was necessary.

Esme lay across the sofa dressed in a sage green nightgown, a white fleecy hat covered what I assumed to be her bare head. Her face was drawn and gaunt, grey hollows were under her eyes which appeared dim and tired. Her long neck was thin, veins and cartilage prominent. Her collar bones protruded and on her left side coming out of her skin were three tubes. The cuts surrounded them a violent red and edged with purpled bruising. A bag held the three tubes that sprouted from Esme's fragile body, and even though I knew what it was and thought I was prepared to see it and not react I knew it showed on my face. Understanding dawned on Esme's face and she held out a weak hand that grasped mine feebly and I caught it like a dead weight.

"Pleased to meet you." I said quietly, biting my lip and praying she was not hurt by the pity that must have shone from my eyes.

"You too." She replied, her voice breathy and so very quiet. Yet it was gentle and soft. She looked soft, and feminine. And motherly. Despite the severity of her thin body, and lost hair there was a quality to her that made me want to lay my head down, burrow into her stomach so that she might stroke my hair and sing me to sleep. I covered her cold hand with my own and squeezed it gently.

Alice came up behind me and leaned down to kiss her mother on the cheek.

"Hey mom, how are you?" Alice asked, kneeling down by her head. I went to let go of Esme's hand but she weakly kept hold, I knelt beside Alice and rested my hand on the sofa seat.

"Bit tired today, I must look a fright." She replied with a weak chuckle at the end. Followed by a wide yawn.

"I'll help you upstairs Esme if you like? You said you just wanted to wait until the girls got here." Carlisle said, moving to stand behind us. Charles stepped forward. "Don't worry Carlisle. I am perfectly able of helping my wife to bed. Why don't you go serve dinner. You're the chef after all." Charles said pleasantly, I glanced at Alice who appeared to be studiously ignoring the veiled jibe and just smiling steadily at her mother. Esme reached out her free hand and rested it on Alice's head, she turned into it and laid her head down on the sofa, smiling softly.

"It's alright, the girls can help me up." Esme said, ending the debate before Carlisle could answer. Esme retracted both hands and pushed herself up slowly into a sitting position. Following Alice's lead I took Esme's elbow and we got her to her feet. She was slightly shorter than I was in height, and her diminutive stature made her appear smaller still. Her back hunched slightly, and I saw her wince as the bag holding her Hickman line swayed. Alice placed a comforting hand high on her mother's back and the three of us made a slow procession to the door. Stopping only for Charles to kiss his wife on the forehead goodnight. His kiss was a quick peck that made no noise and was over in the blink of an eye. Carlisle stepped up to Esme next to Alice and bent in to kiss her on the cheek, taking more care and time than Charles. It was still done in a matter of seconds but from where I was standing I saw Esme briefly shut her eyes, and Carlisle's nose graze her cheek. Shivers ran down my spine and I looked away. This woman whose body I helped to hold up seemed to me a tragic character indeed, I was eager to know her better.

As though nothing had happened, as though Carlisle's momentary display of affection meant nothing we helped Esme to her room, a pastel coloured room of many shades and large soft looking furniture. She fell into her bed and with a quiet goodnight to both of us she fell asleep, Alice laid the covers over her and kissed her mother on the cheek. She stood up and looked down on her sleeping mother, gently she slid the hat off of Esme's head revealing tiny soft, baby looking hairs growing over Esme's scalp. They glinted red in the lamp-light. I felt Alice's arm shaking next to mine, I turned and saw her quietly sobbing. Both hands clasped over her mouth letting only tiny gasps escape. I put my arms around Alice and rubbed her back, my throat closed and I felt my eyes fill with tears at the pain this house seemed to hold. And the secrets, and lies.

Alice sniffed and drew back, nodding when I whispered if she was alright.

"I'm sorry, I just-- She looks worse than I thought. I haven't seen her in a few weeks and that fucking Hickman line gave her an infection. I didn't see how ill it made her, I only knew what Dad told me." She whispered fiercely.

"Why does she still have it if it gave her an infection?" I asked.

"She has so many fluids pumped into her veins it's quicker and 'less invasive' if the tubes are already there. Apparently it's better to not have to keep making new holes. Although personally I can't see how having one great big gaping hole permanently in your chest is any better." She spat bitterly. I looked down on Esme, her eyes moved quickly under her lips and she began to breathe out quiet snores. The room felt peaceful and tranquil, Alice turned out the lamp and for a moment we stood in the darkness. Watching over her sleeping mother and listening to the rain patter against the window pane.

The dining room was laid out simply and Charles and Carlisle had already begun when we walked through the door. Alice's tears had dried but her cheeks looked pink and I saw Charles look closely at her. Carlisle noticed too but looked away and smiled at me. We took our places and ate the chicken casserole Carlisle had cooked, I spoke little and it was mainly Alice and Charles who filled the silence. I could see Alice's animation in Charles, they had similar mannerisms and quirks.

Nothing of consequence was spoken of and Edward wasn't mentioned. They asked how the drive went, Charles asked after Jasper. Alice said little in response but enough to satisfy him. Afterwards we returned to the living room and Charles poured a glass of scotch for himself and Carlisle. It was not offered to Alice and I.

We sat in the living room a little while, conversation gradually dwindled and when Alice and I began yawning more and more we decided on an early night. Carlisle helped me up with my case, Charles carried the larger of Alice's two and she the other. I was to stay in one of the three spare rooms, Carlisle was in another. He was staying at the house too for the anniversary, and as an extra doctor on hand should Esme get another infection. Something I learnt she was particularly vulnerable to, if the Hickman line wasn't cleaned properly she'd get another and may not be as lucky next time.

My room was of decent size, near the bathroom but far from the family. It seemed the house was divided in half, on one the family stayed, on the other visitors. I found it telling Carlisle was designated to the visitor's half.

I sleepily unpacked my case, stuffing contents in drawers of the huge antique dresser and in the wardrobe with mirrored doors. The room had an antique feel to it, the bed a heavy wooden frame with a curtainless four poster frame.

On my way to the bathroom I looked at the many pictures that adorned the walls. I stopped in front of a photo showing a young Edward blowing out candles on a cake, his family around him smiling and clapping. Esme standing behind him looking so young and vibrant; her light brown hair fell in waves around her face and her body shone with health and vitality. On Edward's other side Charles stood also, younger but still much the same. He was ruffling Edward's hair, his other hand laid on Edward's shoulder to keep him in place. The smile on his face looked predatory more than fatherly, it unnerved me. And towards the back, behind others in the photo who I would possibly meet at the party, stood Carlisle. Only his head and shoulders were visible, he wore large rectangular framed glasses which reflected the light, his eyes hidden behind the lenses. But the smile on his face, the huge smile spread across his face made me feel so sad. He looked so proud, and so loving at the five year old Edward blowing his candles out with all his might.

I couldn't look away from Carlisle's face, because in that face I saw Edward. So distinctly. His hair cast in shadow looked brown, the features so startlingly similar. And I recognised that smile, I knew I had seen it on Edward's face before. It wasn't often Edward smiled so openly, very rare in fact. I thought back, cycling through my memories of him like pages in a photo album.

And then I remembered, the recollection made my hand shake as I reached up and traced the smile with my fingertip. That night in Alice's kitchen, when she'd made me laugh so hard after telling a joke. I was bent in double caught between trying to laugh and breath. The kitchen door squeaked open, and I lifted my head to see Edward's head poked through the doorway and beaming at me so brilliantly I couldn't look away. That loving and proud smile on Carlisle's face in the photo was on Edward's when he looked at me in that moment, that fleeting, significant moment. But I did not dare to decipher the meaning of it, I was sure it would break my heart.

I turned from the photo, but carried this new sensitivity with me into my sleep. That night my dreams twisted and turned, surrealist scenes littered the night and haunted me in the morning. I remember waking sobbing, my face dry but my mouth gasping out heartbroken cries. It made me wonder if it was possible to be in love with two men, was there room in my heart for two? But to me my heart was a barren wasteland, hollow and derelict. I could not nurture this sapling of affection, it would be kinder on Edward not to.

But later, as I fell asleep in my big, soft bed I let my mind run on pleasant fantasies. I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like, if I did.

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**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, review if you forgive me for my awfully long absence.**


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